Love, Insanity?
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: "They do what they want, Toris. Even when we're sane, we're crazy in here. You take care of an old person or a sick person because they can't do it themselves. But we are neither of those things. Once we're here we're stuck. And they do what they want."
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Originally written for the 09 Secret Santa on the RussLiet LJ community. This time I did some biigg edits and revisions to this chapter.

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The facility was definitely not a very impressive site at first glance. The sheer size of it may have been grand and imposing, but the exterior was a cracked and faded gray paint with crumbling red brick showing through here and there. The wings, separated into two full, long rectangles, were uninspired at best; the middle being something of an oval that divided them. The middle of the institution was about six stories high, where as the wings were only three. The right wing was marginally better looking than the rest of the building; he'd been told that it was from a fire that happened there many years ago. As for the architecture, perhaps it was something influenced by German design, even in this very English area.

Despite all of that, Toris was very excited to see the building for only the second time. This time was different from the last, because this time he wasn't here as a wide-eyed and eager student, but as a full-fledged intern. He could barely keep his excitement down as he stepped through the threshold, shoes squeaking slightly on the marble mosaic tiles there. That mosaic resembled a tree; he could never forget this floor. He'd been curious when he saw it at first, and the head Doctor had explained that the man who had funded the building's creation over one hundred years ago had insisted on it. A map of the mind, he had called it. From the roots to the tip of the branches, as many years as the tree shall live, its bark shall bear the proof of its life.

"Excuse me." A cold voice snapped the brunette from his memory, lifting green eyes to meet the gray ones in front of him. The middle-aged woman was dressed in large off-white scrubs which had the sleeves rolled up to her forearms. "Can I help you?" She raised one salt-and-pepper eyebrow at the slightly taller young man. He was dressed in simple jeans and a white t-shirt with a basketball logo on the front, and he carried with him a black duffel bag.

"O-oh, I'm sorry, yes. My name is Toris—"

"Patient or visitor?" The woman cut him off swiftly, lifting up her clipboard and pen.

"Ah… what?" Toris frowned slightly, caught off guard. The woman sighed as if tired, her words slowing a little.

"I _said, _are you a _patient _or a _visitor_? You have someone to see here or you're here to see a doctor, right?" She tapped her pen against the paper on the clipboard.

"Oh, no, neither of those!" Brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, Toris tried again. "My name is Toris Laurinaitis, and I'm here for work! Today is my first day and I'm supposed to meet with Doctor Sismund."

"He quit. Left or Right wing?" She put down her clipboard finally, setting her hand on her hip instead.

"He… But he called me just last week! He said it was alright to start, and—" Toris shook his head, feeling his anxiety flare up. He'd waited over a year to get into this place—taken so many tests just to meet the qualifications in order to have a chance at serving his internship _here…_!

"Settle down kid," The woman waved away his worry. "All of his matters are being shifted to another doctor, and he hired several people before he left as I understand. Damned irresponsible thing to do if you ask me. Anyway, did he tell you which wing that he wanted you in?"

"The male wing." Toris' face flushed as he realized that he'd forgotten which wing that was.

"Right." The receptionist lifted her hand from her hip to point to the double white doors. "I'll buzz you through. They'll give you your card by the end of the day. They only work to let you _in, _to get out you'll have to call someone to the desk or have the master key." As she was speaking she was heading for the semi-circular desk at the back of the front room. Reaching down under the desk, there was a loud click followed by a continued buzzing.

"Thank you very much!" Toris gave her a small wave, rushing over to the doors as not to take up any more of her time. He pushed one of the heavy doors open and the buzzing stopped. It slowly closed on its own once he was through. It locked with a loud, hollow click, which sent an echo through the hallway in front of him. Unlike the outside of the building, the inside of the institution seemed to be well maintained. These floors were tarnished but clean, and they didn't squeak when he walked. He could hear a small commotion coming from the end of the hall that he was traveling down, and after about twenty feet he came to a corner. Rounding it, it seemed he'd reached the main room.

Scattered across the room there were couches, tables with chairs, and a TV on an old wooden stand sat in the corner of the room. Tall windows gave a view of the courtyard through the equally long black bars that stretched across them. Only bare, winter dried trees and a dreary gray sky could be seen from between them right now, in any case. From where Toris stood, to his right and in the back of the room was a room with the top-half surrounded by glass. There were a few small black and white TV screens there with static images on them, from around the facility no doubt, resting on the back counter. There was a hallway leading further back from that room to the right, and one to the left.

"Are you Toris?" The sound of his name drew his attention, and he quickly turned his head to find a man about his age standing beside him. The man was taller than Toris, with short dark hair and blue eyes, and he was dressed in dark green scrubs.

"Yes, that's me." Toris offered a smile.

"Great, you brought your scrubs then?" The man indicated his duffel bag. Toris nodded and the man, an orderly no doubt, jerked his thumb behind him. "Follow me." He said without ceremony as he turned and headed for the room at the back. When they reached the door labeled 'Staff', there was a loud buzzing sound as someone behind the counter pressed a button. This door seemed as heavy as the last, judging by how the orderly pressed with his shoulder. "The break and restroom's back here. Your card will let you out the door we just came in but not out."

"Of course" Toris nodding in understanding. The dark haired man pushed open the yellow door they came to, revealing the beak room. It was about fifteen by ten, and housed several bunk beds along with a set of lockers. There was a table and chairs in the middle, and a counter in the back which sported a coffee machine, microwave, and a small refrigerator. "Overnight is _mandatory _for interns and new hires, and this is where you can catch a wink between shifts if you plan wisely. Two nights a week and no excuses, one missed night and you're gone." The man said firmly. Toris nodded that he understood, heading for the lockers with his bag. "Get changed and meet me back at the safe room, where we just came from." The door creaked and Toris turned around,

"Wait, what's your…" The curt orderly's back vanished around the corner, and Toris sighed as the door clicked closed, leaving him alone. "…Name." He murmured to himself. He'd met two people here who seemed a little…distant, and he hoped this wasn't a trend. As soon as Toris was changed into his own green scrubs, he returned to the safe room as requested. There he found the man who'd shown him his way along with about five other people waiting for him. A woman was at the counter of the desk, currently handing cups of pills and water out to the wards standing in line outside the room. There was one other orderly wandering around outside the room, passing out more pills and water to the patients not in line. The one who had spoken to him earlier motioned with his hand.

"Guys, this is Toris. He'll be starting today to take over for Liz."

"Hello Toris!" The woman at the counter half turned to face him, pretty blue eyes and sandy blond hair. "Do you have a hair tie?" She asked with a hint of concern. Toris blinked, reaching up to touch his hair on instinct.

"I didn't think to bring one."

"Here, you can have one of mine." She reached into her pocket, pulling out a black band and handing it over. "You'll need it, some of these guys get grabby and your hair's a good target."

"O-oh, thank you very much then." Toris said as he went about tying his hair back. His bangs were too short, and they came forward again anyway, but it was better than nothing.

"My name's Sarah. You're not from around here are you?" She handed a cup to another man at the window.

"I'm from Lithuania actually, I came here not—"

"Alright, you guys can make nice later. She's got medicine to pass out." The one who had greeted him spoke up. "My name is Brad. I'm sort of a supervisor until we get another head doctor, but I'm just an orderly. This is Shaun, Michael, Eric, and that's Jeff out there." He motioned to the others standing nearby. Eric and Jeff both seemed to be in their thirties and a bit buff, while everyone else appeared to be no older than mid-twenties. The one outside the room, named as Jeff headed for the desk as they spoke of him. He wore an unhappy expression, and when he was buzzed in by Sarah he gave a single nod towards Toris before he looked to the others.

"He's refusing meds again."

"What else is new?" Sarah said from the counter with a sigh.

"This is the second day this week." Michael chimed in, tossing up his hands. "We should just let him skip it."

"And deal with the repercussions of another full on psychotic break? I don't think so." Brad said firmly, heading for the doorway opposite the hall to the break room. "We'll have to sedate him and get him to take them when he's more docile."

"Ah… May I ask who it is?" Toris spoke up, and all eyes turned towards him.

"Mr. Red." Jeff said with a sneer.

"He means the Russian, Ivan Braginsky." Michael offered in explanation. He pointed his hand towards the glass protection separating them from the patients. There against the far wall, sitting with his back to them and facing one tall window was a figure in a chair. His blond hair was messy, he was wearing a robe over his clothing, and a tan scarf was wrapped around his neck and hanging over his shoulders. "He's tough as hell. I don't know what they give their wards in Russia but he's huge. Came here before I did; about three years ago. They say his family shipped him out for this reason or that."

"None of us really know much else." Sarah chimed in.

"Nothing else." Brad muttered, and Toris looked over to see him holding a needle. Green eyes widened in alarm.

"Let me try." Toris said suddenly, drawing dubious looks from around the small room. "No, really! I've been studying behavior modification. Please, it can't hurt to let me try right? If I fail you can use that, but it would add even more stress for him wouldn't it?"

"That bastard damn near broke my jaw a few months ago last time he pulled this kind of stunt." Jeff grumbled. "I bet he would damn near kill a little guy like you."

"I'm not afraid to try."

"Let him." Michael offered, grinning smugly, arms crossed over his chest.

"Brad, just sedate him." Sarah interjected.

"…Eh, what harm can it do?" Brad shrugged, setting the needle down onto the counter.

"Brad!" She complained.

"No no, really. Go ahead Mr. Lithuanian. You guys would know how to deal with Russians pretty well by now, right?" He grinned as well, and Toris bit back his response by gritting his teeth and frowning. Toris held out his hand towards Jeff, who handed him the cup of pills and the paper cup of water. Without looking at anyone else, Toris pushed open the door as Sarah reluctantly buzzed him through. Feeling those eyes on him, he made his way across the room, his heart pounding. Stopping a short ways from the man sitting at the window, he noticed that there were no other patients around. Even the wards that hadn't come to stand in line and the ones who had already taken their pills seemed to give this man a wide range, it seemed. Setting the cup and the pills onto the table nearby, he came closer.

A chilly air made him shiver, and he wondered why the windows were so tall in a room like this. "It's cold." He said softly, crossing his arms to rub at them. No response came from the other, so he spoke up a bit louder. "Aren't you cold here?"

"_Nyet._" Came the sharp answer, in Russian. Toris sighed.

"_V… Vy govorite, _ah… _po-angliski_? Because my Russian is horrible…" He smiled a bit, watching those shoulders tense a little. The blond glanced over his shoulder, and then turned to the side on his chair, which creaked a bit. Toris was nearly startled by the sight of the violet eyes that settled on his own, almost hidden by that mess of blond hair. The Russian _was _tall; he could see that as Ivan straightened his back to sit upright, taking stock of the stranger near him. His shoulders were wide, legs long, and he seemed a bit soft at the middle… Reaching up, Ivan tugged his scarf away from his mouth and nose, revealing the rest of his face. Speaking his nose, it was perhaps a little larger than most, and pink, as were the tips of his ears. "You _are _cold! Please come away from the window…" The brunette worried, reaching for Ivan's shoulder.

"Don't touch me." The blond snapped in an accented voice, just before the smaller man reached his shoulder, and Toris' hand pulled back. "I don't know you. Who are you?"

"My name is Toris… I'm new here. Today is my first day. It's nice to meet you." He held out his hand. Ivan looked at it as if it was an insect, raising one eyebrow. He looked past the brunette to the safe room.

"Did they put you up to this? Is this one of their games?" He asked warily. Toris glanced over his shoulder to see that all of the other orderlies were watching, most of them with those same doubtful grins. Looking back, he frowned.

"Games? No, I chose to come out here all on my own. Are you going to shake my hand and tell me your name?"

"You know it." Ivan said back, glancing back to the hand, though he seemed less cautious somehow.

"Maybe so, but I would like to hear it from _you._"

"…_Menya zovut _Ivan Braginsky." Ivan's hand reached out, closing long, cold fingers around Toris' smaller hand and shaking it firmly. Perhaps a little _too _firmly, but the brunette didn't complain. He kept his tense smile until his hand was released.

"Good then. Now that we're acquainted," The Lithuanian turned to the table where he had left the pills and cup of water, lifting them and turning towards the blond again, "I wonder if you would take these for me—Hey!" Toris protested as the cup with water was promptly slapped from his hand, splattering the liquid over his arm and the floor.

"I said _nyet_!" Ivan shouted, such a change from his soft voice just a moment earlier. Toris frowned, glancing over his shoulder when he heard the door to the safe room open. He shook his head to Jeff and Michael, who stopped in their tracks. Turning back to Ivan, Toris gave a heavy sigh.

"I did nothing to you to deserve that." He said firmly, prompting the Russian to raise his eyebrows a little.

"I told that Irishman I didn't want them." Ivan explained simply, his expression innocent as could be now. He had to mean Jeff, Toris guessed, because of the orderly's reddish hair.

"You did not tell _me. _I treated you with respect, and I deserve the same don't I?" Toris kept his voice calm. Ivan frowned then, looking much like a child who was upset. "Ivan?"

"…_Da_." Ivan admitted with a mumble, pulling his scarf back up over his mouth.

"So then, you'll take your pills. I'll get you another water and—"

"I will not." Ivan spoke back up, shaking his head. The Russian stood up from his creaky chair, drawing himself up just as tall as he could be, forcing Toris to swallow hard as Ivan stepped up close. The smaller orderly came to just about the Russian's chin. Trying his best to keep his voice from trembling, remembering well what Jeff had said about his jaw, Toris changed his expression.

"Why not?" He asked, looking concerned. Those captivating violet eyes narrowed for a moment; confused, angry, and something Toris couldn't quite place. The Russian's shoulders tensed as if he might really lash out at any moment. "Is something wrong? Do you not feel well?" Toris continued stubbornly, hearing footsteps behind him—likely the other two coming to 'rescue' him. Ivan took a step back, and then another, falling back onto his chair with a creaking of wood.

"_Ya hochetsya chai_." Ivan said simply, giving a toss of his hand.

"Tea?" Toris brightened suddenly. "Are you allowed?" Ivan glanced over again, but his eyes were looking behind the smaller man.

"_Da. _But they don't like to give me any." He nodded in the direction that he was looking. Toris turned his head to see the others near the safe room still, but Jeff was halfway to the two by the window. Toris paused for a moment, and then he struck up a curious tone.

"So, if you have tea then you will take the medication?" Ivan looked thoughtful for a moment as well, eyes searching the Lithuanian face for some sort of trick. Finally he relented, backed into a corner of his own creation. Nodding, Ivan gave a smile.

"_Da._"

"I'll be right back." The brunette turned on his heels, walking past Jeff who followed him, and into the safe room to face his chuckling co-workers.

"I have tea." Toris stated. "I brought some with me to leave in my locker, because my brothers would drink it all if I left it at home. He wants tea, and I have it. Was he telling the truth when he said he was allowed?"

"This isn't a damn hotel." Jeff spoke up, "Let's go Brad."

"Now just hold on." Brad responded. "I'm still curious. The last thing that we need is another bruised up orderly on medical leave; we're short-handed as it is. Go ahead and get your tea, Toris." Brad leaned back against the counter.

Several minutes later the brunette was heading back for the lonely looking figure at the window, who was pretending not to watch him with interest. Toris set the cup down onto the table along with several sugar packets. "You didn't say how much sugar that you liked, so I brought a few. Now remember, I probably can't do this every day. You'll have to come over here to drink it though." He set the cup with pills down beside the one with tea. The Russian rose easily from the chair, approaching slowly and making sure that his eyes stayed on the steaming cup, and _not _the young man standing by it. Taking a seat, Ivan lifted the cup to his nose as he pulled the scarf down again, sniffing it.

"What kind?"

"Black, it's the kind I like. I hope you don't mind." Toris watched as Ivan lifted the first sugar packet. It was emptied swiftly into the tea. And then the second, and the third… Ivan stopped at four, stirring it with the plastic spoon that rested within it. Lifting it to his lips finally, he took a sip as he closed his eyes. After a moment of pause, Ivan lowered it again to open his eyes and stare down at the dark surface of the liquid.

"What's today?" Ivan asked quietly.

"Tuesday, the 14th of December." Toris answered. Ivan gave a small 'Ah', and then he smiled.

"My sisters will grow again soon." He said in a wistful tone.

"Will they? That's wonderful then!" Toris answered with a smile. He almost lost it when he received a surprised look from the blond. "Did I say something wrong?"

"You don't… think that's strange?" Ivan asked cautiously.

"That your sisters will grow? Of course not. People grow every year, don't they?" Toris frowned. Was he missing something here? But Ivan merely smiled, giving a satisfied 'Mn' as he nodded, lifting the cup with his pills in it. He slipped them into his mouth, sipping at the tea to swallow them down. Licking his lips, he glanced up to the brunette.

"Toris _mne nravites'_." Ivan said with a sense of seriousness about him. The younger man continued to smile, perhaps a little proud of himself.

"I like you too, Ivan! You can sit here with your tea, but please don't go over to the window again. It's too cold. It might even snow tonight, they say. I have to go back to work now, but if you need anything else you can ask me, alright?" Ivan nodded his head, sipping at his tea as if he'd lost interest. "Alright then, I'll see you later Ivan." As soon as the brunette had turned his back, violet eyes became affixed to it.

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to be going pretty well for Toris. Aside from the dirty looks from Jeff all day, the wards of the institution seemed to be welcoming to a fresh new face. He was a little concerned to find a few of them wandering around on their own or staying in their rooms alone so often, but after a little coaxing they all seemed to come around to him. He bit his tongue a few times as well, when Michael became irate with a few of the more difficult wards. The short-tempered Michael had shouted at one of them in particular, an ash-haired German man who was apparently delusional about an invisible 'friend' of his. The poor man had ended up crying even as he laughed at the large, dark-haired orderly, calling him a fool as he walked away.

It wasn't until evening that it happened.

"Hey, Toris." Brad motioned with his hand. "Got a moment?"

"Ah, yes. I was just on my way to clean up the mess that someone made of the chess set in the common room." Toris brushed his hair back behind his ear as he walked over.

"Don't worry about that, just come here. Look, we have a little… problem." The other gave a sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "It's about Ivan." Toris looked concerned suddenly.

"What is it?"

"We think he's been hiding his pills in his room for a while. He's been showing signs of regressing again, and he usually does that when he doesn't take his medication. Problem is, he's _stashing _them in his room. If he gives them to another ward or if one finds them, it could be dangerous."

"Oh, of course." Toris nodded, frowning slightly. "But what did you want me to do about it?"

"Right now everyone else is busy getting the others ready for bed. I need you to go into his room and find them while we keep him occupied. We think he's hiding them in his mattress. There's a rip there that we've found things in before, usually chess pieces and things, but I don't think there's anywhere else he could be keeping them." Brad explained, to which Toris nodded.

"I'll do my best to find them then. Which room is Ivan's?" He asked simply.

"216. Thanks Toris, you're a great help." Brad smiled at him, patting his shoulder before he walked away in the other direction. Facing the safe room, if you went to the left you would see the long hallway there, with doors lining each side. Except for the plain white paint, it almost looked a little like a hotel's hall of rooms. Of course there were card-locks on the doors which were to be used at night, but it was less than some of the other floors of this establishment. This was the most lightly guarded ward, after all. Finding the door with the numbers 216 on it, Toris glanced around before opening it and slipping inside. Closing it behind him, he took a deep breath.

Ivan's room wasn't as empty as he would have thought. In fact, it was quite decorated. There were several brightly painted matryoshka in the windowsill of the small barred window about a foot higher than Toris' head, and a small iconic painting hung on the wall. On the small dresser beside the bed there was a lacquer box decorated with a straw mosaic on the top, and a few other small things set about. Moving to the side of the bed, the brunette dropped to his knees. Pulling up the sheets, he found the tear in the side of the mattress easily enough.

Sliding his fingers inside he felt something papery, and taking a hold of it he pulled it out. He found it to be a plain white envelope with tattered and stained edges, and he raised one eyebrow curiously. It was easy to see that there weren't any pills inside of this, so he used his fingers to glance back inside of the mattress. There was nothing else there at all, but that was a relief wasn't it? Glancing back down to the envelope, he couldn't help but wonder what was inside. Opening the flap with a finger, Toris saw the side of what seemed to be a picture. Opening it the rest of the way, he pulled them out.

He was half right. In fact, there were about five pictures. Portrait style, each picture featured what seemed to be the same two women in them. Both women were blond; the taller of the two smiling wide while the shorter one sported a simple, almost shy smile. The younger one's eyes were a steel blue, and the bow in her hair made her seem much younger than the last of the pictures seemed to imply. A succession of photos and in each of them the women were a little older. A hollow clicking sound from behind him startled him suddenly, and he nearly dropped the whole bundle as he stood up and spun around. Coming nearly face to face with narrow violet eyes only made his heart skip a beat, and he gave a quiet gasp.

"I-Ivan, I was…" Toris tried to explain. How exactly _did _one explain that they'd just been _snooping through your mattress_? The Russian's eyes fell down to the photos in his hands, and his expression changed, becoming hurt instead.

"Toris… you too?" Ivan asked in a quiet tone, lifting his eyes to those emerald ones again.

"I, ah… Me too?" Toris frowned. Ivan headed for the small desk that sat against the wall opposite his bed, picking up the chair there. "I-Ivan?" The brunette's face paled a little. But the blond only carried it to the door—shoving the back of it under the handle while propping up the legs to stay there. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"You want my sisters too, Toris? You want to take them from me." Ivan turned slowly, his bangs shadowing his eyes almost completely as he started in towards the orderly. Toris swallowed hard, taking a step back before he hit the dresser, hearing the items on top of it clink together as it moved slightly.

"I don't want to take anyone from you, Ivan. I-I want you to calm down…" Toris held up his hands in defense, his breath coming a little faster as he fought not to panic. All that he could think of right now was every defensive move that he'd learned in his class, and how useless they would be against someone of this size in this small space.

"Calm? Don't be silly Toris," Ivan glanced up, smiling as he came close enough for Toris' outstretched hands to touch his chest. "I _am _calm." His tone was smooth, soft, and even. This was just before his hands moved to swipe the photos and envelope from the hands of the hapless orderly, tossing them to the side before he grabbed Toris' wrists in iron grips.

"Ivan—!" Toris' voice rose at last, but he was cut off as the Russian shoved against his smaller frame hard, pushing him to fall onto the bed with his own following. One arm was twisted behind Toris' back while the other was released as the orderly landed on his stomach, coughing as he was pinned down by the blonde's own weight on his back. "I—!" Toris gasped as he found a thigh shoved between his own and his bangs grasped in a firm grip, forcing his head to turn to the side. "_Ivan, stop_!" Toris cried out in full panic now. What good did five years of martial arts do if he couldn't even use it when he needed it? Ivan's heavy breath fell over his neck now, and he felt the blond take a deep, slow one as he pressed his face into that neck.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Toris…" Ivan murmured softly. It sounded just as calm as moments before, despite his heavier breath.

"Then… then let go of me!" The brunette complained, pressing with his free hand on the mattress.

"How could you do it, Toris?" Ivan whispered instead, his breath brushing over the younger man's ear.

"Ivan, _please…_!" The door handle clicked, and then jiggled as someone tried to open it. Banging came soon after, and he could hear Jeff's voice shouting to open the door. "Ivan please, they'll—!"

"Are you afraid of me, Toris?" Came the unexpected question. Toris growled in frustration, shoving against the mattress with all of his might again, but to no avail. Ivan was too solid to budge!

"No!"

"I see." A chuckle. "You're so naïve… How could you let yourself be fooled like that? I can see that I'm going to have to protect you." It was then that the chair gave an awful screech as it was forced back from the door, clattering noisily to the floor. Ivan was ripped off of the orderly he'd pinned to the bed in the next moment, and thankfully he let go of the Lithuanian's hair and arm as soon as he was. Jeff and Michael both attempted to restrain the Russian, who shoved at both of them just as hard as he could. Sarah rushed in past them, her expression frightened.

"Toris, are you alright? I'm so sorry; we didn't know he'd do that to the door!" She gushed, nearly in tears. Toris froze from where he was rubbing the side of his head, glancing to her in question. Ivan began to shout, mostly in Russian, as they managed to pull him out into the hall.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked Sarah quickly.

"She means it was a wakeup call, kid." Brad's voice came from the door where he leaned against the frame. "You needed one. That man, a lot of these patients, they're dangerous. We're not here to be their _friends. _We're here to keep them from harming people, including us." He muttered.

"You… You lied to me! And you…!" From a ways down the hall he could hear Ivan's tone suddenly change. He wasn't angry any longer. No, this was higher, and faster, more _desperate_. Pleading, more like. Toris caught something amidst the rush of Russian, standing up from the bed and waving away Sarah who was still fussing over him. "Siberia?"

"That's what he calls the solitary rooms. When he gets violent like that, nothing but that can calm him down. For some reason he hates the hell out of them, but he behaves for a while if we leave him there for a night." Brad shrugged.

"This… this isn't right! He didn't hurt me!" Toris protested, stepping into the hall again. The two large orderlies had done a pretty good job of dragging the struggling Russian down the hall, but he wasn't going easy.

"Bull. I saw him on top of you, or is that what you call playing?" Brad grinned, and it took every ounce of strength for Toris _not _to punch his superior. He grit his teeth, taking a deep breath.

"Brad, this isn't right! You tricked me—you made me do something which you knew would set him off!"

"It would have happened eventually! We just made it happen sooner, because we couldn't stand that naïve smile you've had all day!" Brad threw up his hand, raising his voice.

"This is bad for _Ivan_! How is he supposed to get better if the people who are supposed to help him only play jokes like this instead?"

"Help?" Brad laughed. "There's no help to be found here, kid. Every head doctor that comes into this place leaves in about a year. It's known for its reputation, but that's all crap! Make it a year and you can find a job anywhere you want in the mental health field. That's why _you're _here, isn't it?" He grinned at Toris' glare. "I thought so. These patients, they're here until they die." Toris averted his eyes to the floor, fists at his side and trembling slightly.

"Toris… are you alright?" Sarah asked, touching his shoulder lightly.

"…Let him go."

"What?" Brad asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Tell them to let him go, Brad. Don't put him in solitary—Can't you _hear _him? You said he _behaves _after he's been in there—but all you're doing is damaging him more!" Toris looked up, his expression torn.

"Shit, kid. You don't have to get all emotional about it." Toris didn't respond, he only leveled Brad with that gaze. "Fine! Look, I'll make you a deal. I've got night shift tonight, but if you take it for me I'll let him stay in his room. That'd be three night shifts for you this week though."

"I'll do it." Toris answered without hesitation.

"Fine. Jeff! Mike! Let him go!" Brad shouted off down the hall, then looked back to Toris. "If he hits someone after they let him go, it's on you." He warned. The brunette took off down the hall, reaching the spot where the two orderlies were still struggling with Ivan. They seemed reluctant to let him go, and Toris couldn't blame them for that at least. Ivan's affect seemed completely different from how he'd been just moments ago, bangs hanging in his eyes again, though they were damp with sweat. The Russian still fought against the two holding him back with everything he had, enough so that they were sweating as well, but Toris was sure it was for different reasons.

"Ivan! Ivan, calm down!" Toris tried, reaching out to touch the Russian's shoulder. More hurried words in the Russian tongue came forth, so quick that he couldn't understand any of it. A few words were unmistakable however, and he shook his head. "You're _not _going to Siberia, Ivan!" He tried to explain. "Ivan, you're not going anywhere! Let him go, you two!" Jeff and Mike glanced to one another, the redhead shrugging with a shake of his head. They both let go and stepped back at the same time, which sent the tall blond falling to his knees. Toris kneeled quickly. "Iva-" Hands gripped his shirt, yanking him forward as the Russian pulled him close. "Ow, hey!" He protested, though he didn't push him away. "I'm not holding you, relax!" Ivan patted those broad shoulders softly, wincing. Slowly, Ivan's heavy breath began to even out.

Toris waited patiently, knowing he'd have bruises on his chest from the way those long fingers pinched at his shirt. Just like he'd have bruises on his twisted wrist as well… When Ivan's grip began to loosen, Toris' hands slipped from Ivan's shoulders, gently unclenching those fists with his fingers. "There, that's better. Now stand with me." Toris said calmly, and to his relief, Ivan obeyed. Taking the patient's hand into one of his own, the orderly tugged lightly. "To your room…" He stated. Finding no resistance, Toris led Ivan back up the hallway. Instead of relieved, the brunette was a little worried about the sudden change of mood from the blond. Ivan's eyes stayed downcast and his expression blank, not smiling as before. It hurt something inside of his chest to see that, and he was angry at the others for causing it.

Reaching the door to Ivan's room, he let the Russian go inside ahead of him. The blond walked over to his bed, lying down without another word. His large frame curled up on top of his covers, scarf tugged up over his mouth and nose. Toris came in after him, picking up the scattered pictures and replacing them in the envelope they had been in, laying it on the dresser. There was a folded blanket on the desk in the room, and Toris picked it up. Unfolding it, he laid it over the blond. Resting his hand on Ivan's shoulder, he spoke quietly. "I'm going outside now. If you need anything, I'll be right out there." There was no response, and Toris frowned in worry. Patting Ivan's arm, he left the room without another word. The others had all gone back to their work it seemed, leaving the brunette alone to wonder about his choices.

As he leaned his back against the closed door, he couldn't help but think about what Ivan had said. 'I'm going to have to protect you.' What confidence! It looked to him like the Russian was the one that needed to be protected. And Brad was wrong about one thing. Toris _had _chosen this place because it was prominent in the field… But it was not so that he could move on. He had chosen this place because he thought that he could make a _difference _here. And it looks that that difference as going to start with one Ivan Braginsky.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

Thank you so much for the reviews! At this point in the story, I would like to point out that while I am a student of psychology, I do not know everything. Though I do my best to be knowledgeable about the conditions I will use, please do not take offense if I am wrong about some things. This is probably unnecessary but I'm sensitive about these things. Another APH character showing up in this chapt, and if all goes well many more to come!

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It was nearing eight p.m., lights out for the wards of the facility. Most of the patients had retired to their rooms by now, and Toris had finally gotten a much-needed break. Ivan hadn't emerged from his room at all since the fiasco set up by the brunette's co-workers, and even though he wasn't directly responsible, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty about it. He sat in the sleeping quarters behind the Safe Room now, where he had gotten changed earlier today. A warm cup of tea rest between his hands, green eyes watching the steam rise in lazy circles as he let it slowly cool. He'd been so happy to start his internship here this morning, so optimistic when he left home.

His younger brothers, Eduard and Raivis, had just been preparing for school when he left. He'd made them both breakfast because it was his turn, and talked with them about his schedule. Two twelve hour shifts a week, and three eight-hour ones; a total of forty-eight hours. The hours were rough, considering he had to use his breaks to study, and his days off to take classes. But Toris was _determined _to make it in this field! And normally the overnights were on days he didn't work, so it wasn't all that bad… Presently the Lithuanian heaved a heavy sigh, watching his breath disturb the swirl of steam that he'd been watching. Time to call home… Brad had been nice enough to give him an extra break while they did a room check to make sure everyone was present in their rooms. Though they weren't required to go to sleep until around ten, they had to stay inside until seven am the next day.

Lifting the cell phone, he dialed the number slowly. After three long rings, there was a click. "Lorinaitis residence." A youthful voice spoke up. Toris smiled, even over the phone.

"You can use your last name now." He reminded his adopted brother.

"Toris. I was wondering when you would call…" Eduard's voice picked up a little, but it was barely noticeable.

"I'm sorry; I haven't had a free moment ever since I walked in! Did you boil the pierogi I prepared last night? And Raivis finished his homework, right? I don't have to ask about your homework at least." Toris lifted his tea to his lips finally, taking a sip as he waited for Eduard's answer. He got a sigh in return,

"Yes and yes. And of course yes. Though it was a pain, my business economics Professor doesn't think that my financial statistics are solid enough because they're based partly on being an entrepreneur. I know where he's coming from but if no one ever stepped out of their lines, how anyone can make a profit from the same kind of…"

"E-Eduard…" There was a pause. And then,

"Oh, right. So was there anything else? You could have waited until you got home to ask, I was thinking of staying up until then. We left you some of the pierogi; all you have to do is re-heat it." His brother explained. Again Toris smiled,

"You didn't have to; I told you I could grab something from the convenience store… Oh, but that's what I wanted to tell you. I… won't be able to come home tonight." He winced, biting his lower lip in the pause that came after. There was a small sigh,

"I knew they would take advantage of you." Eduard's tone had a note of irritation.

"Oh, no, I offered actually…"

"What did they do, give you some sob story? They have a sick grandmother at home, or maybe their cat? Toris, I told you that you have to be more…" He could just see Eduard's disapproving look as he scolded the phone, and he couldn't help but grin a little.

"E-Eduard, it's nothing like that!"

"Then what _is _it? They had better have a good excuse. Your first overnight wasn't supposed to be until tomorrow." There was a tapping, probably a pen, from over the line.

"I know that but this is… This is my choice." Toris said firmly. "I'll be home shortly tomorrow, and I'll make you two some dinner to heat up again before I go back to work. And then I'll have Wednesday off, and I don't go back until Thursday evening." Another pause and the tapping stopped.

"…Can you really do this?" Came the question Toris had just been asking himself. He closed his eyes, gripping the tea mug in his free hand.

"Yes." Toris said with resolution, as if saying it could make it so. Another sigh from his brother,

"Alright. Raivis won't be happy… He wanted to know all about your first day."

"Raivis should be in bed!" Toris protested, frowning. "Tell him that I'm sorry, and that I'll make it up to him on Wednesday. I love you both…" He missed them already. This place was so new and foreign; it would take some getting used to…

"We know." Eduard assured him. The brunette took that as an 'I love you too', but his brother wasn't the type to say it out loud. He smiled then, and they were both quiet for a moment.

"…Alright." Toris said at last. "Give Raivis a hug for me, and good luck on your homework. If you need me to talk to the Professor,"

"I'm not a kid anymore!" Eduard shot back, and Toris laughed.

"Of course not, I'm sorry." His brother was often misunderstood by teachers, ever since he was young. It used to frustrate Toris' father, but his mother knew the truth. Eduard was a little brighter and more curious than other kids his age; that was all. Though his questions annoyed his teachers, he was only trying to understand more than he should for his age group. "Goodnight Eduard."

"Same to you, though it won't be much of a night for you. Staring at screens of empty halls and checking on the inmates at the top of every hour."

"_Patients_, Eduard." Toris frowned, though he could finally tell that his brother was smiling.

"Right, that. Good luck."

"Goodbye." The phone clicked, ending the call, and the brunette heaved another large sigh—only that this was one of relief. He had known that Eduard would protest, but it had gone over well enough. For being younger than Toris by two years, Eduard often acted like the older of the two. Though he was in his final year of high school, his brother was already taking several college classes. He controlled the household's finances and advised his older brother about spending his money. He was logical and responsible, even if he could be a little emotionally closed off at times. Raivis on the other hand was anything but closed off. To his brothers he was shy, but affectionate. His youngest brother did moderately well in school, though he seemed to have trouble making friends sometimes…

He stood up, heading back over to the lockers to place his phone inside. Closing it with a metallic click, he took another long sip of his tea, which was cooled by now. _Can you really do this_? His brother's voice replaced his own for that very question. But this was only the first day! He _could _do this, he just had to get used to things here. The Lithuanian was not a spoiled child; he'd faced many hardships in his life. This was just another thing that had to be done. There was a click from the other side of the room, and the door opened. Toris turned to see Sarah peeking in, giving a small wave. She still felt guilty about tricking him earlier; it was easy to see by her expression.

"Hey," She said quietly, "You called home?"

"Yeah, I got everything taken care of." He answered with a slight smile. No use in writing her off as an untrustworthy person after just one mistake, right? And she seemed to brighten at that smile, giving one of her own.

"Great! Everyone is in their rooms now, so we can start sweeping and mopping and all that. There's also some extra laundry to do, since not everyone was up to it today." She explained. The wards of floor one were in charge of laundry most days, he'd been told by the doctor who hired him. It was evening shifts job to monitor them while they worked, same as yard work on other days, and various other 'jobs' that he had felt would acclimate them for eventual release to their homes. But if what Brad had said was true, there would be no release for the patients here. And how could there be, without proper help?

"I can handle that. The laundry room is below here, right?" Toris offered, sipping his tea to finish it.

"Oh, yes! I'll have Michael show you were it is. He'll be waiting in the Safe Room when you're ready."

"Good, thank you Sarah." He smiled again, and the blond girl blushed as he closed the door. His smile dimmed when she left, walking over to the bathroom attached to the room to wash his cup in the sink. There was a sink and toilet, and even a small shower here, for the employees who chose not to go home on their hours between shifts. Toris thought that would be nice, if he didn't have his brothers at home. He couldn't imagine not seeing them for days on end. Drying it with a paper towel, he slipped the hair-tie from his hair, running his fingers through the shoulder-length mess. It was a bit frizzed from being tied up all day, but there was little that he could do about it now. After placing the cup and the tie into the locker again, he headed for the safe room.

There was a new voice that he could hear from the hallway. A female, but it wasn't Sarah. Rounding the corner, he saw Michael waiting as he'd been told, and Brad as well, but with them was another woman. She was tall, at least as tall as Toris was. Her long brown hair was tied back at the nape of her neck, and she had a flower pin in her hair. Her scrubs were an off white, like the woman he'd first met at the front desk. Her green eyes turned to him along with Brad and Michael's, the latter of which looked annoyed by his appearance.

"You must be Toris!" The woman exclaimed, her hand shooting out immediately to be shook.

"A-ah, yes…" His own hand moved to shake hers, his smile a bit shy. Her grip was strong when she grabbed on, shaking his hand more firmly than he had expected.

"This is Liz." Brad spoke up. Toris felt the grip on his hand tighten as the woman shot his 'supervisor' a look.

"_Elizaveta._" She corrected. Brad waved his hand to dismiss her protest, and Toris' hand was blessedly released. "You _d_o remember why I'm not working in this Wing anymore, right?" She asked him firmly.

"Yeah," Michael spoke up, "It's that damn _Weillschmidt_!" The name sounded familiar to Toris, and then he remembered the ash-haired man who Michael had been arguing with earlier that day. The one who was delusional, and talked to invisible people.

"And the blatant sexual harassment from staff?" She asked with a sweet smile. Toris shuddered, and Michael glanced off, but Brad merely grinned.

"Aside from that," He continued, "She's in-between the Wings now until they decide where she fits in. Tonight she's stuck on overnight in this Wing, since she won't go punching any patients while they're sleeping," He grinned wider, "hopefully."

"I'll try my best." Liz said wryly.

"Great, since she's got free time I'll have her show you the laundry room and help out until you're both on lockdown in here." Brad said, pushing off from the counter he'd been leaning against. Michael gave an unhappy grunt, shifting his gaze to Toris again,

"Don't get any ideas about being alone in a room with her." He commented offhand, and Toris frowned. Elizaveta wrapped her arm around Toris' shoulders suddenly, pulling him in close while he blushed.

"Oh I don't know, Mikey. He's _awful _cute. Just my type." She cooed. Brad only laughed before Michael could respond, grabbing his co-worker's arm to tug him out of the room. Once they'd left the safe room she released her hold, patting Toris on the back. "Sorry about that. Those guys are jerks. It's nice to meet you Toris, and I mean that. I heard about what they did to you earlier…" Her expression was honest, and slightly sad.

"O-oh," Toris shook his head, "It was nothing, I just…"

"It was _not _nothing! Those guys can be such idiots sometimes! Though Ivan isn't usually their target… You really could have gotten hurt, you know. You should report them for it; I would!" She advised, setting her hand on her hip.

"Oh I don't think that's necessary... They seemed to know what they did wrong. At least, Sarah did." Toris protested, shaking his head.

"That Sarah's a good girl at heart, but she gets wrapped up in their games too much. Anyway!" She smiled again. "This way to the laundry room!" She pointed her hand towards the door to the common room, heading in that direction. Toris gave a small sigh of relief, following after her. He really didn't want to discuss the incident any further anyway. Every time he thought of it, he could only see Ivan's hollow violet eyes, shaded by his bangs. His apparent anger, and then his paralyzing fear, followed by… nothing. He had been so blank when Toris had left him in his bed, so unresponsive…

"Toris?" He snapped back at the sound of his name. They had moved to the right of the Safe Room, down the hall and past the cafeteria and other various rooms. Some were used for counseling, some for various activities. At the end of the hall was a door leading to a stairway, which Elizaveta slid her card through. The green light blinked, and she opened the door. "Coming?" She asked with a smile.

"Y-yes, thank you." He replied with a small flush of color, embarrassed for zoning out, following after her. The door closed behind them with a hollow click as it locked, and the sound echoed in the stairwell. The stairwell its self was of interest, being double-wide, and separated by a strong chain-link fence. The middle stairs were for the patients of other the upper wards, while the outer was for staff and first floor patients. There was a metal door at each floor separating them as well, each with its own lock. _In, _but not _out. _The only way out of the middle stairwell was from one of the floors and someone to let you out. It was kind of a frightening thought…

The laundry room at the bottom was revealed with a flick of a switch, lights blinking into action and flooding gray walls with yellow light. There weren't any windows here, which made the room seem even smaller than it was. It was a good size really, a good thirty-by-twenty, its peeling walls filled with yellow-tan washers and dryers, and folding tables in the middle. "Nice, isn't it?" Liz joked, receiving a smile in return. "I'll start folding if you start the loads we have left."

"Sounds good to me." Finally, someone he felt comfortable working with! He was only sad that she wouldn't be there during the days with him. They headed over to the baskets set out, and Toris began to load the first washer.

"So you're from Lithuania?" The older woman spoke up, and Toris gave a small laugh.

"News gets around fast here…" He said as he turned the dial with a series of clicks. Pressing the button _on, _he came over to the folding table to join her. "Yes, I'm from there. But I've been living in Britain for going on two years now."

"Your English is good, but you have an accent." Elizaveta commented, setting a folded sheet aside. "I used to have one too, but I got over it. German is my native language." Her green eyes were on her work, and she didn't offer anything else, and so he didn't ask. He'd hate to pry too far on their first meeting after all! "So did the job bring you here?"

"Oh…" Toris hesitated.

"You don't have to say anything, you know." She looked worried now, afraid that she'd asked the wrong thing. Toris shook his head,

"No, it's alright. You could say that, yes. I've wanted to work in this field for quite some time. I originally wanted to go to America to study, but in the end it was just too far." He gave a small sigh, adding to his pile of folded pillow cases. "It couldn't be helped though, as I refused to go that far without my brothers."

"Your brothers? So you take care of them?" She asked, her tone something like 'how cute!'. Toris laughed though,

"No, really… I think they take care of me more. I don't know what I'd do without them." He explained. Maybe… Maybe it was even a little selfish. Of course Eduard had jumped at the chance to go to a place with more options on education, but Raivis had been so nervous about moving… But it had been Toris who had first suggested that they move, after…

"So, you know how this overnight works, right?" The woman asked him, and the young man nodded.

"At ten we have to be back in the Safe Room, where we can watch the monitors of all the hallways, and some of the common rooms. One of us must stay there at all times, while taking turns doing hourly checks on the patients." He recited. Elizaveta nodded with a smile,

"Right." From there, their conversation turned to more current topics. He learned from Elizaveta a few things about the Hospital. The family which owned it was rather prominent in the psychiatry field, and yet the heir was usually nowhere to be found. With the current shortage of doctors, they'd recalled a few of them from their conferences and teaching breaks. They should have a better supervisor than Brad in the male Wing soon, thankfully. Toris wanted to ask about Ivan, but by the time that she finished explaining everything it was time to head back upstairs.

Brad handed over the master key to Elizaveta, and they bid the other orderlies farewell. Most of the lights were turned off now, in the hallways and in the common room in front of them. The small security lights were all that remained on, enough for the cameras situated in various rooms and hallways to be able to catch most entryways and exits. The screens were about ten in total, black and white and definitely outdated. They did record digitally he was told by his older co-worker, but that there had been a scandal about a year ago when an orderly learned how to make the images replay so that he could steal supplies and things from the storage rooms in back.

"This institution is _full _of gossip," She seemed to lament, giving a sigh as she leaned back in her chair with a novel cracked open on her lap. Glancing his way, she frowned slightly. "You would think that it would be enough to deal with what we do every day, but no. Don't ever let your co-workers know too much about you. Oh, besides me of course." Her smile came back, and Toris felt strangely at ease with her. He laughed a little, and she frowned. "What's funny?" She said with a mock defensive tone.

"You remind me… of my mother." He said with a smile. Elizaveta flushed somewhat, though she closed her book and hit the brunette with it.

"Oh come on, that's way too cliché!" She complained. "And how old do you think I _am_?"

"Oh, it's not your age…" Toris responded, protecting himself from another swat with one arm raised to ward off the book. The both of them froze entirely when a scream erupted from the hallway, muffled by a door. Bodies tense and eyes wide, the waited with baited breath when it stopped, glancing to right where the hallways with the rooms were. After another moment, it came again. This time it was accompanied by rushed and jumbled shouting.

"It's Iva—."

"Ivan…" Toris finished for her, recognizing the language as mostly Russian. Elizaveta gave a low whistle as she stood up, moving to the medicine racks.

"One day and you know that much?" She asked, grabbing a bottle and opening it to place two pills into a paper cup.

"It was the Russian…" Several new voices joined in from the hallway. Some of them shouted for quiet, while others merely screamed back. "W-what's going on? What are you doing?" He asked as the female poured some water into a cup.

"Sedating him." She said simply.

"He'll take those?" Toris asked with a worried expression. Earlier he'd fought the orderlies violently, and refused to take his pills… Was she really going to just walk in there and expect him to take more? Elizaveta gave the brunette an almost pitying look.

"Toris…" They winced when the scream came again. _God, _it sounded like someone was murdering him! The peaceful hallways had suddenly become a twisted chorus of shouts and cries of anger or pain. They echoed through the empty rooms and off of the high ceilings. It was enough to send a cold chill racing down along Toris' spine. "This is what he wants…"

"Can…" He stood up, holding out his hand. "Can I?" Elizaveta pulled back, concerned.

"He may have gone easy on you because you're a new face, but don't underestimate him. Ivan is _dangerous._" She protested.

"I'm not afraid of him! I can take care of myself, too!"

"Did you not being afraid of him stop him from giving you those bruises on your wrist?" The female rose an eyebrow.

"Elizaveta… _please_? You said he wanted those… So what would he do? I'll give them to him, and try and calm him down. If I can't, I'll call for you." He explained as calmly as he could, though the continued sounds were making him quite nervous now.

"And I'd have to send half a dozen security guards in, since I can't leave here…" She sighed heavily. "…Alright, kid." She gave in, holding out the cups. "I _really _hope you're right…" She said with a small sigh. Toris took the cups from her hands, walking quickly over to the door. Elizaveta pressed the button, and he pushed the door open with his shoulder.

Toris' heart was pounding in his ears by the time that he reached the dark hallway. Making his way quickly over to 216, he slid the master card through the slot beside it. The door hummed, and then clicked noisily as the lock slid out of place. The brunette opened the door, squinting into the dim room. The only light came in from the small, barred window. A streak of blue which left everything a dull and colorless gray of shadow. Ivan cried out again, and Toris winced at the full volume of that loud voice in this small room. Moving quickly to the small desk, he set the pills and water down before he moved over near the bedside.

"Ivan!" He called out. The body on the bed was curled up tightly, the heavy blanket Toris had given him earlier draping over the side to rest mostly on the floor. The air was thick with humidity suddenly, and Toris' outreaching hand could feel the heat radiating from Ivan's shoulder. The Russian's hands were fisted tightly into his own hair, and he only shied away the moment the orderly's fingertips touched his shoulder.

"_Ne kasaesh'cya _'!" Ivan shouted in a now quite hoarse voice. Toris winced, opening his mouth to call out again as the Russian continued to protest loudly, "_Nikogda ... nikogda_…!" Fingers pulled at that short hair, and the blond gave an anguished whimper which was painful to even hear. Toris' hand grabbed a hold of Ivan's shoulder this time, though he was startled when the larger man reacted swiftly. "_I'll not go back to that_!" He sat up quickly, turning towards the smaller orderly with surprising speed. But his legs which had become twisted into the sheets became caught up, so that when those long arms reached out to grab a hold of Toris' shirt, he couldn't control his momentum.

"_Aah…_!" Toris grabbed a hold of Ivan's wrists, but he couldn't keep himself from falling backwards. The rug on the floor under him slid on the smooth surface, and the much larger body came along with the force of its own unbalanced weight. They hit the ground with a muffled thump, a tangle of blankets and limbs, and the very rug which had aided their fall managed to also protect the back of Toris' head from cracking against the tile floor. "_Atch.._!" Toris winced, still holding on to Ivan's wrists. The blond's head was bowed, sweat-damp hair pressed against Toris' neck as his heavy breath fell over the exposed skin there. "I-Ivan…" He could feel it now, the trembling. The hands on his collar had no strength now, not like the way they had pinched his skin through his clothing earlier.

"_I'm sorry…_" The low and breathless voice spoke up. It was raw, and nothing like the Russian's earlier soft tone.

"I-it's alright…" Toris assured him, but Ivan wasn't finished.

"_I'm so sorry… It's so hot…_" He whined, shifting so that his weight rested mostly on the body underneath his own, ignoring the brunette's sound of discomfort. "_It's hot, so hot, I can't stand it…_! _But I won't go back, I __can't go back again, never ever again…_" He gave a laugh, high and chilling, almost a child's chuckle. Toris' back and shoulders tensed, but still he didn't push at those hands, afraid they would become tight again if he did. "_I want__to stop it, but I want it to stop so I can't_!_ I won't… I'm not sorry… but please forgive me…_" He gave a low groan, and Toris swallowed hard.

"I-Ivan, who are you talking to…?" He asked softly. The body on top of his own relaxed slightly, and his voice became softer,

"_Moy sestri…_"

"O-oh…" Toris replied, his own breath a little heavier due to the weight on his chest. They were both silent for a long moment, before the brunette began to feel his face getting hot. "A-ah… Ivan? C-could you…"

"_Toris…_" Ivan whispered in return, as if just coming around to himself. He sounded… relieved? The weight was lifted all at once as the Russian got to his hands and knees, staring down at the orderly. Toris swallowed again, giving a small wave. He noticed that the sounds from outside had all but stopped. Only a few disgruntled patients still shouted every now and then.

"You didn't know it was me…?" He asked, and Ivan looked quite confused. The Russian's brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to reply… and then smiled.

"I knew it…" He said with a small chuckle. Toris felt his skin prickling with goose bumps, and he pushed himself up to his elbows as Ivan sat back.

"W-what did you know, Ivan…?" He asked curiously. Ivan shook his head though, rising to stand again. He began to gather his blankets as if nothing was out of the ordinary, going about remaking his bed. Toris stood up slowly, rubbing the back of his head. He wanted to say something, _anything… _But he didn't even know where to begin. Ah, maybe… "Why did you want to tell your sisters that you were sorry, Ivan?" He jumped when Ivan spun around to face him, and for a split moment he swore he saw those eyes go blank. It was covered with a smile in the next moment.

"Did you bring them?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

"B-bring…?" Toris frowned, taking a step back. Ivan laughed, but there was something hollow about it.

"You're stupid, aren't you?" He teased. Toris was offended at once, but Ivan cut his reply off, "_Nyet_! Ah… ignorant." Ivan corrected himself. "_They're _stupid… But _you_ can learn." The Russian looked quite confident in this, and the younger man was quite lost. "The pills?" The larger man rose an eyebrow playfully.

"…Oh!" Toris flushed. "Y-yes, I brought them!" He turned to the desk where he had set them—quite glad he had! Otherwise the water would have spilled… "W-wait…" He frowned, turning back around. Elizaveta had said that he would want them, hadn't she? And now he was asking for them, as if he had been waiting. But then what was that episode all about? Just how much of Ivan's hysteria had been an act, and what had been real? Ivan only continued to smile as if he knew all the answers to the universe, but he was enjoying Toris' contemplation way too much to tell him. The brunette gave in to that grin, reluctantly picking up the cups and handing them to the older man.

Ivan slipped the pills into his mouth, tipping the cup of water back as well and swallowing them both at once. He gave a small sound of satisfaction once they were down, crushing the cups together and setting them on his bedside dresser. Toris gave a heavy sigh, turning towards the door. He found his wrist grabbed in the next moment, wrapped up in long cold fingers and held in a firm grip. Green eyes looked back in alarm, but the violet eyes that met his own looked just as startled. "_Ne poydyosh_…" Ivan begged softly in Russian.

"E-Elizaveta is waiting…" Toris protested weakly.

"_O-onstan'cya so mnoy… _Just until I sleep…" Those fingers slid away slowly, and Toris felt a tightening in his chest. With a small sigh, he gave in with a single nod of his head. Ivan smiled again quickly, patting the bed beside him.

"You're just like my youngest brother…" Toris commented with a slight grin, sitting where Ivan had suggested. The Russian laid down quickly—his head placed right onto that 'offered' lap. Toris gave a small squeak of protest, but Ivan clutched at his pant leg.

"You have brothers?" The blond asked quickly. The Lithuanian swallowed, his face hot.

"Y-yes… two of them." He said in a strained voice. What happened if Elizaveta worried, and sent the security guards now? They might get the wrong idea…!

"Older or younger?"

"Ah, younger… Both of them…" A tense swallow.

"Oh, I see… So then, you're a big brother. That's quite a responsibility. I bet that you're a good brother…" The hand clutching at the orderly's pants loosened, laying on Toris' knee. "I bet you love your brothers, and you would do anything for them. Even forget them for their own good…"

"F-forget? I could never forget my brothers!" Toris protested. Ivan seemed unimpressed.

"You would if they were bad… If, you thought that maybe you might hate them… Then you would forget them, so that they didn't _know _you hated them. Then they could go on believing that you loved them…" Ivan smiled, closing his eyes. Toris frowned even more, shaking his head slightly as he looked down.

"I could never hate my brothers, Ivan. Not for the world… Not even if they did something bad. Siblings share a bond, you should know. Those pictures, your sisters send them to you right? There's no way that they hate you." There was silence for a response, and Toris sighed. "You may not believe me… but I'm sure of it!" Ivan's eyes opened, and he glanced up to the face above his own.

"That's true for _you, _Toris. I wish it was so…" He gave a sigh, as if it was hopeless. "Who taught you to speak Russian?" He asked then, before the orderly could argue. Toris didn't like to leave the previous topic so soon, but he didn't want to upset the other. He gave a small sound of disappointment, but he answered.

"My grandmother, my father's mother."

"_Ona Russkaya_?" Ivan's interest seemed piqued.

"No, but…" Toris smiled a little at last. "No, she was Lithuanian. But she was in love with a Russian man. It was a scandal, because she was married at the time. My father was just a child at the time, and my grandfather had been in the resistance…" Ivan's eyes closed again, but he was smiling as if he was being told a bedtime story. "My father always hated how she'd talk about him, to me and my brothers. He'd get drunk and angry and throw things at her. But she always told us stories when he wasn't around, and taught me all the Russian that she could. I haven't… used it much ever since she passed." Toris' tone was a little sad at that, but it was clear that he had come to terms with her death.

"I love her." Ivan stated simply. Toris laughed,

"You never knew her!" He teased.

"She was a Lithuanian, and she loved a Russian. And she taught Russian to Toris. What is not to love?" Ivan was so confident with his statement that Toris couldn't find a way to argue.

"Alright, so you love her. But you don't even know her name."

"What was it?" Ivan opened his eyes, his voice as eager as a child.

"Emilija. Emilija Lorinaitis. She never took her husband's name, and she passed it on to my father." Ivan seemed content with this, and he closed his eyes again.

"Emilija…" He repeated softly. "I love Emilija… and I love her grandson, who looks much better with his hair down." Toris' cheeks were flushed with heat, and he reached up to touch his hair. He'd forgotten that he left it untied! He wanted to protest that, protest… everything about that statement, but… He bit his lower lip instead, glancing off to the side. It did no good to argue… Ivan didn't mean it anyway. He couldn't! He'd known Toris for half of a day, so how could he? Toris was sure that he was just saying these things… Tomorrow, tomorrow he would forget that he had ever said those words.

After a few more minutes of silence, Ivan's breath evened out as the medicine took effect. Toris glanced down to the sleeping Russian, his expression troubled. Brushing his fingers through that short blond hair, he gave one last small sigh. "My grandmother would have liked you, Ivan." He said softly, as not to wake him. Very slowly, he lifted that heavy head from his lap. Moving the pillow underneath it, he lay it down again. Picking up the heavy blanket again, he draped it over Ivan's lower half. Leaning down close, he whispered quietly, "_Spokoynoy nochi'_, Ivan."

Elizaveta glanced up from her book as Toris re-entered the Safe Room. She took in his mussed clothing and hair, and his flushed face. "He give you any trouble?" She asked simply, turning a page in her book. Toris couldn't meet her eyes, shaking his head.

"No…" He replied with a small hesitance. She smiled then.

"Good." She said simply, glancing over to the monitors. Toris sat down stiffly, awkward by all accounts. Silence filled the small room, over the sound of the hum of the screens, black and white images filled with stillness. "Hey," She spoke up again, "I heard you brought some tea! Got anymore? We've got a few more hours, and I'm about to fall asleep." Toris glanced over, blinking.

"O-oh, yes. I do have some left." He stood up again, thankful for the chance to gather his senses. Elizaveta waved him on, and he left in search of his tea for the two of them. Once he was gone, she sighed heavily. She _wanted _to warn him, really she did… But then if she did, she might take away the only chance that either of them had.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

As I mentioned in my fic 'Fighting Spirit', I had a kind of secret project I was working on. I was asked to write a fanfic for an English APH anthology, which should be going on pre-order in June! More information will be on my profile page as well as the links at my profile page to DA, Y!, and LJ.

As for this chapter, many more new appearances. Have suggestions for a character who hasn't come in yet? Tell me! Whew, this one turned out long…

* * *

Toris reached the small apartment that he lived in with his brothers about eight in the morning that day. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his scrubs, having taken the train home wearing them. It was a nearly two hour transit, but it was the only thing he could do right now. He didn't have a license for the UK, and he didn't have the money for a car. Dropping his bag onto the floor by the door, he drearily pulled his clothing out of it.

Blessedly, his mind was blank as he carried them to his room, dropping them into the basket there. Taking the few more steps towards his bed, he collapsed onto it with a huff of breath. Everything was quiet here, his brothers already gone off to school and the neighbors all gone off to work. He could hear the faint sound of a television from the upstairs apartment, but that was almost pleasant. He could drift off, right here, right now… Let yesterday's stress melt right off of his skin where it had smeared like ash into a thin film all over his body.

…If only. With a heavy sigh, Toris pushed himself up from the bed and stood back up. Heavy steps took him to the attached bathroom, slipping off his shoes before he flipped on the light switch. He wasn't surprised to see that it was a mess, he'd left in a hurry yesterday after almost over sleeping because of studying for a test that he had on Wednesday. You could never be too prepared, he'd always thought. But now he was starting to think that you could definitely be _under _prepared… Slipping his shirt off over his head, he set it on the edge of the sink, followed by his pants. Tossing his boxers to the side, he reached in to turn on the shower. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he winced to see the bruise on his collarbone. Four of them, short and thin, all in a row. He must have gotten it when Ivan grabbed his collar… His right wrist was bruised too, only a little. It seemed more to him that Ivan didn't know his own strength than if he had really wanted to do him harm.

Jeff had said it, hadn't he? Something about Ivan nearly breaking his jaw. Somehow Toris didn't think that story was an exaggeration like some of the ones the others had told. No good thinking of it now… Turning on the cold water as well, he stepped under the blissful spray of water. The shower, quick as it was, did good to refresh him. Throwing on a pair of boxers and a tee shirt, he brushed out his hair and set about cooking something for his brothers to eat when they got home. A soup would do, he could let it simmer while he was home and they could heat it up when they got home. Making some tea for himself, he set his cell phone alarm and sat down on the couch to sip at it. It was about ten in the morning now, and in two hours he had to leave… This gave him that long to nap before he threw on a clean pair of scrubs and head back to work.

* * *

As Toris entered the institution for the second time that day, he felt only half of the optimism that he had felt yesterday. Sheer force of will and a dash of youthful ambition kept up his remaining hope for success in this place, as well as common sense that he couldn't afford to lose this internship. Level one was the safest level of patients in this place, thought that wasn't saying much, so if he couldn't prove himself here then he had no chance in this field!

There was a younger lady at the main desk today, and she smiled when she gave him his own card key for getting into the rooms and areas that he had access to. It had his picture and name on it, as well as the words 'Level 1' printed at the bottom, with the barcode on the back. He was buzzed through the door, where his smile was immediately wiped from his face for a look of alarm instead. From down the hallway raised voices could be heard, quick and angry, but there was laughter as well. His steps hurried to the end of the hall, heart already pounding by the time that he rounded the corner.

Standing on one of the couches was a blond dressed in blue jeans and a white tee shirt with something on the front of it. His hands were above his head, holding a tray of cups of water. He barely had it balanced, and a few had already fallen over to drip from the sides. Standing a few feet away were Michael and a female orderly that Toris didn't know. The female was trying to coax him down, but Michael was shouting as usual. The blond, as well as several other patients were laughing, while others were yelling at him to get down.

"Throw it at him!" Suggested the German, glancing to the side where no one stood before laughing again and nodding, speaking in a quieter voice.

"Don't you encourage him, Gilbert!" The girl scolded, but the ash-haired man shrugged innocently.

"Not me, Fritz." He said simply. A cardboard chessboard came flying in from the other side of the room, hitting the blond on the couch and making him stumble a little.

"_Fratello_ don't!" Came a protest, drawing Toris' gaze to the side. One of the patients he'd seen yesterday sat by the TV, glaring in the direction of the one on the couch.

"Just get down you bastard!" Lovino growled. Sitting next to him and pulling on his arm was—ah, someone Toris didn't know, but he looked almost exactly the same as Lovino.

"HA! HA! HAA!" The blond gave a loud and strange laugh, holding the tray up higher. Toris' attention returned to him just as he turned around. "You can't get me down, villain! The poison you feed the masses will be stopped!" He called out triumphantly. The brunette could see his face now, and the logo on his tee shirt which seemed to be a large American flag. He wore glasses and seemed to be rather young, probably around Toris' age.

"Noisy!" Came a shout from the windows, where a large familiar figure sat with his back to them. Ivan's hands were covering his ears with his scarf.

"Oh-hooo?" Green eyes moved back to the blond when he heard that sound, blinking when he met bright blue eyes. The tray was suddenly dropped, hitting the floor with a clatter of plastic and splash of water. "Who's this!" He hopped off from the couch, his bare feet slapping across the tile floor as he rushed over. Toris tensed, as stunned as a deer in the headlights of a truck as the unfamiliar patient approached him, unsure if he was dangerous or not.

"Thank fucking god." Michael muttered. "_You _deal with that crazy asshole, Toris. Rita, you can go home now." The orderly bent to start picking up the tray as the female known as Rita shot the brunette a look of sympathy as she headed for the Safe Room. He flinched when quick movement caught the corner of his eye, but it was only the patient holding out his hand.

"Toris? I'm Alfred! Call me Al." He gave the orderly a grin that could charm the stripes off a zebra, and Toris couldn't help but smile a little as he held out his hand to close around the others. Alfred shook it firmly, and the Lithuanian returned it. "Good grip! I can tell you're a good guy, not like that suspicious guy over there." He nodded his head towards Michael, who promptly flipped him off.

"At least let him get his stuff put up before you take his time up, Al." Brad said from outside the Safe Room, where he stood with a new tray of cups. "He'll be here overnight." Alfred's eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted to Toris' superior,

"A challenger appears! It's _Mr. Jones _to you, villain! Go on Toris, I can handle this one." Alfred patted the brunette on the shoulder.

"B-but I'm…" Toris started to speak as the blond headed towards the taller man, but Brad cut him off.

"You _do _realize that he's one of us, don't you? An orderly, a bad guy; a freaking 'villain'." He smirked. Alfred shook his head, steps slowing as Jeff stepped up beside Brad.

"No way, you're not all bad! Not Liz, Rita, Sarah, or Toris."

"Hear that Toris?" Michael laughed, tossing the last of the paper cups onto the tray and picking it up as he stood, careful not to slip on the water. "You're lumped in with the girls!"

"Nope." Alfred shook his head again, his eyes sizing up the large Irishman. "Just not with the assholes!" The hero charged in full force, but he was caught by Jeff's large arms and swept clear up off of his feet with a gust of air. Alfred laughed as he kicked at Brad, who stepped away so that the new water wasn't spilled.

"Take him to his room and get him changed. And Michael, finish handing out the medicine." He glanced over to the brunette, who still stood still, a bit shell shocked from it all. "Hey, you! Snap out of it and get your stuff put up. We need your help in group therapy today."

"Oh! Right, I'm sorry!" Toris spoke up, giving a nod as he rushed over to the Safe Room, being buzzed in by Sarah. Heading back to the break room, Toris got his things stored away in his locker, pulling out a hair tie and tying it back as best as he could. His bangs refused to he tied back, still a bit too short to reach all the way, but he let them be for now. The left side near his temple was still a bit sore from being pulled yesterday anyway. Making his way back to the safe room he was greeted with another new face. He was taller than Toris, and his skin was almost a light mocha. His hair was a mop of brown, and out from under it he had bright green eyes. The man was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, with a long white coat. He smiled when he saw Toris, holding out his hand.

"Toris, right?" He beamed as his hand was taken, shaking it quickly. His hand was very warm, and it felt comforting somehow. "My name's Antonio! You can call me that." He assured him before letting go, and Toris nodded.

"Nice to meet you Antonio… Are you a doctor?" He asked, though the coat said as much didn't it?

"Oh, I guess I am." Antonio shrugged. "But before that I'm a friend to the patients here! Speaking of which, I heard that Alfred was back?" He glanced over to Sarah, who smiled.

"Sure is, Dr. Carriedo. Took the tray of cups and ended up dropping them all over the floor again." She stuck the end of her pen in her mouth, and Toris could swear that she was blushing.

"Oh, he'll just _love _that, won't he?" Antonio asked, sticking his hands into his pockets.

"Didn't sound too pleased when Brad called him. I could hear him yelling over the phone!" She chuckled, and Antonio removed the hand from his coat, setting it on her shoulder. She _definitely _blushed then, as he patted it and laughed.

"I'm sure we'll all hear more of that when he gets here!" He exclaimed, leaving Toris to stand back like the bystander to some sort of inside joke. The Lithuanian wrung his hands a little, averting his gaze until the doctor glanced back over. "Ah _mi mal, mi mal _Toris!" He switched his attention to the younger orderly, removing his hand from Sarah to place it onto his shoulder instead. "I didn't mean to leave you out!" He patted him firmly. "Let's get to that meeting, _sí_?" Toris looked surprised.

"_You're _in charge of group therapy?" He asked.

"Oh my, do you have to say it like that?" Antonio looked down-hearted. "Don't I look like a doctor?"

"Ah!" Toris' eyes widened. "No! I mean yes! I'm sorry, I didn't mean..!" He stopped when the Spaniard laughed again, patting his back this time, hard enough to force a small cough from the younger man.

"Relax, Toris. I was joking! Now let's go. Some of my friends get a little… irritable when I'm late!" He turned to the door, and Toris, red faced, followed him out. The common room was mostly clear of patients now, all gathered by the other orderlies into the designated room for therapy. Though Toris frowned to see that Ivan still sat by the window, opening his mouth to ask Antonio if he wasn't to join them just as the Russian looked his way. He paused in his steps, offering the blond a smile and a small wave. Ivan's expression didn't change at all, half covered by his scarf as it was, and he turned his gaze back to the window. Something like a tinge of pain passed through the young orderly's chest, though he couldn't quite understand why.

He had just been right about Ivan forgetting about him, right? Forgetting about what he had said, and everything that had happened. Though it stuck so clearly in Toris' mind, it hadn't meant a thing to the tall Russian. They'd said he was undiagnosed, though they were playing with the idea of Unorganized Schizophrenia and Borderline Personality disorder with psychotic episodes… "Toris?" Antonio called back behind him.

"Yes, coming!" The brunette rushed to catch up to the doctor, missing the violet eyes which watched his back.

They all sat in a circle facing each other, on chairs spaced a safe distance apart. The only exception was the seat that Lovino was in being right up against the one that his likeness sat in next to him. Gilbert also had a chair next to him, but no one sat there. Jeff and Shaun were also there in case anyone got out of hand, though the orderlies all stood. Antonio sat with his back to the barred windows, clapping his hands. "Who wants to start?" He asked with a cheery smile. Various grumbles and sounds came from the circle of patients, but no one offered. "Ah-ha, I see… Let's go with… Gilbert!" He pointed his hand to the German, who had been whispering avidly to the empty seat beside him. Reddish eyes turned towards the Spaniard, an annoyed expression on his face.

"You're so rude! I'm already talking, aren't I? Fritz is the only one who cares what I have to say anyway." Gilbert waved his hand.

"Now now, that's not true at all! I care!" Antonio protested, and his smile didn't falter at all. Gilbert glanced to the chair, and then slowly back. He gave an indecisive shrug, to which the doctor clapped his hands. "Great! So then, anything new this week?"

"Oh!" Gilbert pointed across the circle to Lovino and the other. "Yeah, he came to visit! Can't get him away from that damn sour-faced one though. Me and Fritz have been waiting a goddamn month, and he goes and hogs him all to himself!" Lovino sat up straight all at once, pointing at the German.

"He's _my _brother, you kraut-bastard!" He shouted back. Ah, so that's who he was… Lovino's brother looked troubled, touching the older of the two's arm.

"_Fratello, _please!" He begged, glancing over to Gilbert next. "I'll visit you too! I'll be in town for a while, so it's alright!"

"No it's not you idiot!" Lovino made a fist, hitting his brother on the head. As the younger one whimpered Antonio stood up, hands up defensively.

"_Ay ay ay, _let's all just calm down!" He coaxed, as several other members of the group were starting to become tense. Glancing over to Lovino, he shook his finger at him. "You know better than to hit Feliciano, Lovino. If you do it again, I'll send him home."

"Shut up, you bastard! I'll do what I want." Lovino stood up. Jeff stepped forward as Feliciano grabbed his brother's shirt, tugging it.

"_Fratello…_!" He shrunk back as Lovino raised his hand again. Thankfully Antonio caught that wrist, his plastic smile strained a little.

"Lovi—" He was stopped when the Italians' fist collided with his chin, scuffing across the corner of his mouth. "_Ay_!" He shouted to Jeff when the orderly reached out for Lovino's arms. The Italian seemed to calm down then, on his expression still a hint of irritation, but his arms were down at his side. Toris held his breath, his heart pounding as he could only watch everything unfold right now. This was… normal here? The patient had just hit a _doctor, _not just an orderly! After a tense moment, the only sound being the murmuring of patients and Feliciano's worried sounds, Antonio laughed. "Do you feel better, Lovino?" He asked with another smile.

"…_Tch, _hardly." The brunette muttered, dropping back into his seat. The Spaniard turned back towards the others, heaving a sigh. Toris' eyes widened a little,

"Ah, Docto—" He shook his head, "Antonio, you're bleeding…!" He pointed to his own lip. The doctor blinked, grabbing a cloth from his pocket and dabbing at his lip. He chuckled when he saw that it was true, holding it there.

"It's alright. I'm a doctor!" He said simply. Toris wanted to protest that he wasn't a _medical _doctor, but he held his tongue, biting his lower lip instead. Going back over to his seat, he sat back down. "So! Who else wants to share today?" He asked.

* * *

Two hours. Two hours was how long that the therapy lasted, going around the circle until Antonio had gotten at least one thing out of everyone present. Even Lovino had talked a little…about things which made him angry, but it was something. Some of the patients even had to be stopped from rambling on and on, which the doctor said was quite good for them. Lovino's brother Feliciano had spoken as well, talking about how he had come to visit his brother—and Gilbert while he and his partner were in town on business. Toris tried his best to take everything in, to remember what details that he could about the patients and how they should be handled. He decided that he could look up to Antonio, who obviously dealt with such difficult patients with a smile.

If someone such as that could make it here, then Toris really did have a good chance! The Lithuanian had dealt with much hardship in his lifetime, and yet here he was in another country, working hard on achieving his dreams. He felt a twinge of pain on his back, but he stubbornly ignored it as he made his way back to the common room behind all of the patients. He spotted Alfred on one of the couches, greeting Feliciano loudly as Lovino made a rather dissatisfied face. The blond was now dressed in scrubs like the rest of the patients, but his has no personal distinction as many others did. He'd been told that the patients were allowed to personalize their clothing on Level 1 as long as they remained inoffensive.

Lovino's scrubs had a few stitched tomatoes on it, his brother's matching them. Must have borrowed them from, Toris had figured, to fit in while he was here. Gilbert's had a black cross near the collar and on the pants near his ankle. It helped their laundry get back to the right places as well. He remembered Ivan's having sunflowers…

"_Aiyah,_" A loud voice startled the brunette out of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the Safe Room. "About time!" Exclaimed a dark haired Asian man from behind the glass. He stood at almost exactly Toris' height, a little shorter, with his hair tied back behind his head as his bangs hung forward. He was older, though it was hard to tell how much because of his smooth skin. He wore the same black slacks as Antonio did, but his shirt was red. He also wore a doctor's coat, only that his was closed most of the way and not open like the Spaniards had been. Sarah looked exasperated as the man headed for the door, giving Toris an almost pitying look. He swallowed as the other moved towards him, freezing in his steps. "Mr. Lorinaitis?" The man asked quickly.

"_T-tai—_I mean yes…!" Toris nodded, surprised enough to almost speak in his native tongue. The man crooked a finger,

"Please follow." He turned on his heel, heading back for the Safe Room. Sarah buzzed him through, and the younger orderly was hot on his heels. As they headed back to the break room, he could feel his heart pounding nervously.

"A-am I in trouble?" He asked. Was this about last night? Had Elizaveta said something? Or maybe one of the orderlies had complained about the therapy incident and this was about that? No, it was too soon for that. The Asian waved his free hand as he passed his card through the slot, opening the door and holding it for Toris to go in ahead of him.

"That depends." He said simply, letting the Lithuanian go past him. Toris chewed at his lower lip, turning to face the doctor. "My name is Dr. Yao Wong. I'm in charge of several patients in this institution, and have been assigned to Ivan Braginski in specific." Yao began, crossing his arms. Even though he was the same height as Toris, the brunette felt somehow slightly intimidated by him. "I was called back from a conference in order to deal with him at this time."

"I-I'm sorry…?" Toris offered, biting his lower lip again. Yao waved his hand,

"I had a private session with him today. This is difficult time for him, you see. December. Anyway, he spoke of you." Yao's English seemed broken in places, which got worse the more agitated that he got.

"D-did he…?" Brows furrowed, and Toris' expression showed confusion.

"Oh yes. In fact, it was all he wanted to talk about! Toris' hair, Toris' smile, Toris' tea and his voice and his kindness." Yao tapped his palm with his finger. The brunette blinked, face flushing with heat,

"This… this is bad?"

"And his _smell, _his _warmth._ Three years working with that man, and I have never heard him say so much about a person! I understand there was trouble?" Hands moved to his hips, and the Lithuanian shifted uncomfortably, giving a small nod.

"The others played a joke on me… They made me find some pictures of his sisters. He became very upset when he saw me with them…" His hands began to fidget. Yao's dark eyes widened a little.

"_Ben dan_!" He cursed, his expression angry. "Every time I take a step forward with him, they want to take two steps back!" He turned his back as he ranted for several more sentences' in Chinese, before he finally calmed himself enough to face the other again. "Forgive me. It is just that Ivan thinks those pictures _are _his sisters. That is, he thinks that through them they grow and stay safe. If he doesn't have them, something will happen to them."

"Y-you mean like how people used to think that a camera could steal your soul…?" Toris asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Something like that. It keeps them safe. Remember this. Never touch again!" He pointed his finger at the younger man again. Toris nodded quickly, but it was heartfelt. The doctor seemed to calm a little, seeing that. He took another deep breath, leveling his voice to a more pleasant tone. "…About Ivan. It good you want to help him… But be careful please. Last one he open up to was me, and now he only listen to me. We have a system, and he knows it." Yao tapped his temple. "But he also is dangerous."

"I know that." Toris offered, but the doctor shook his head firmly.

"No! No, you do not. It is more dangerous to be liked than it is to be not liked." The Asian explained, reaching out to take a hold of the brunette's upper arms. "Ivan doesn't like Brad, or Jeff, or Michael or no one. He like me, he like you. He try things with me, he will try with you! He is serious!" Yao let go, crossing his arms again. "Do not be alone, do not let him trick you. If you want to help him, you will listen."

"Y-yes. I understand." Toris nodded. Though the truth was, he really didn't. What Dr. Wong was saying sounded true enough, but what he didn't get was the part at the end. Being liked was dangerous? Yao didn't seem willing to elaborate on what 'try things' meant, leaving such a broad range of things to consider. But he _did _want to help Ivan, so he would agree to whatever the doctor said. He was his primary psychologist after all, for three years now! And so he agreed, and tried his best to take it to heart. The doctor seemed satisfied, smiling as he stood back.

"Good. You're a good boy, Toris. I hope you stay here for a long time." Pulling up his coat sleeve a little, Yao checked his watch. "Art shift is now. It's room 124, you should go." He waved his hand to dismiss the orderly, and Toris nodded again. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Yao frowned. "Go, go! You will be late!"

"A-alright…" The brunette was a little uneasy at leaving things like that, but he had no other choice. He left the break room with a heavy sigh, heading for the Safe Room. He couldn't help but feel slightly angry at the doctor who had hired him. The man had all but left him blind in what was supposed to be such a pivotal period in his life. Dropped right onto his feet and expected to run, and learn as he did so. Most of the orderlies here seemed to have no ambitions of anything more than this, and he couldn't blame them. Schooling was hard, expensive, and time consuming. Not to mention, orderlies who were not interns made quite a good sum of money working here. As for the Lithuanian, he was making next to nothing doing the same as everyone else.

* * *

Thankfully there were no surprises in the medium sized room that he came to for his next assignment. Art class, which was really more of a free expression for the patients. There were long rectangular tables with chairs on either side. Though it was mostly cloudy outside there was enough light for the sun to come in through the windows, and he spotted Ivan easily enough. Lovino and his brother were there too, along with Gilbert, Alfred and several other patients that he hadn't been introduced to yet. Crayons, paints, brushes, and charcoal and pastels all lay out on the tables for the patients to choose from.

Alfred went right for the crayons, drawing some sort of city scene as well as you could with crayons. There was a person on top of one of the buildings, and it wasn't hard to tell from the large A on his chest who it was. Antonio stood over behind Lovino, tapping the paper in front of the Italian. "What's this?" He asked of the shapeless red mass that had been drawn in pastels on the white paper.

"It's nothing." Lovino muttered.

"Oh no! I see, I see!" Picking up a green pastel, the Spaniard quickly drew a green stem and a few lines up top. "_Un tomate_~!" He said excitedly. "Can I keep it?" He asked. Lovino's cheeks grew red, and he glared off in a new direction.

"I don't care."

"_Fiestas_!" The doctor cheered, taking the picture and setting down a new page in front of the Italian. "Draw me another, Lovino!" He patted his shoulder as he walked away. The poor patient's cheeks remained red as he stubbornly ignored the suggestion for now, though Feliciano smiled from beside him. It was then that Toris noticed that the younger of the two was sketching with a piece of charcoal. Stepping over to the two—on Feliciano's side—he peeked over his shoulder. Several pages were laid out that were filled with drawings. Patients faces, the window, the way the art supplies was laid out in front of them. He'd drawn everything in his sight—and expertly!

"Feliciano, these are amazing!" He spoke up, drawing the other's attention. Feli smiled, pausing in his sketching.

"_Grazie_!" He said cheerfully.

"Are you an artist?" Toris asked, "May I see these?"

"Oh yes, go ahead!" Feliciano nodded, handing the small stack to Toris. "I'm nothing like that, but my job does have a lot of art in it!"

"Oh, what do you do?"

"Advertising! My partner—"

"Don't talk about that potato bastard around me!" Lovino spoke up loudly, startling Toris.

"S-sorry _Fratello_! Um, anyway, can I draw you?" Feliciano changed topic, smiling at the brunette.

"M-me?"

"Mm!" The Italian nodded.

"I-I suppose… Ah, what should I do?" Toris fidgeted a little. The other pulled out the chair near him.

"Sit, sit! Just smile! Or if you can't hold that you can look off somewhere. You're working, right? So watch the others!" Feliciano was so excited that he just couldn't say no, taking his seat and smiling nervously. He held his smile for a while before he was distracted, glancing over to see Alfred trying to sit in the seat next to Gilbert. The German was protesting loudly, pushing at the blond and exclaiming that he was trying to sit on his friend. Alfred was laughing, a clear sign that he knew exactly what he was doing. He frowned as Antonio moved over to break them up. His eyes moved back to the Italian, who's own were on his drawing. Over Feli's shoulder, Lovino was drawing again. And over that…

Near the window, Ivan stayed alone. All of his supplies were in neat order, and he applied his thin brush to the paper with such small, precise movements that he wondered what it was that he was painting. Now and then he winced when the voice volume became too loud, but otherwise he remained concentrated. It was a little admirable, Toris thought to himself. Just like Feliciano, who could focus enough to create such artwork… If only the reason that he sat alone was limited to noise, it wouldn't make him feel so sad… "Done!" Feliciano announced, drawing his attention back. He held out the paper for Toris to see.

The picture was from the chest up, with Toris looking off slightly. The detail of his bangs which fell to his collarbone, and the very folds of his clothing was amazing! The subtle shadows on the features of his face, and his eyes… "F…Feliciano, this is _amazing…_"

"_Grazie_!" The Italian thanked him with all the care that someone who didn't believe your words might. As if he honestly had no sense of pride or ego to be stroked. Toris opened his mouth to say more as shouting broke out behind them. Feliciano flinched and Lovino glared back behind Toris, who stood and turned around. Alfred had pestered another patient, who was now being held back from him.

"I didn't even do anything! Didn't touch him!" Alfred shouted at the orderly who came towards him, his own hands up defensively.

"Yes he did." Said Gilbert with a grin.

"Shut up, Gil!" The blond shot back.

"Now now, just set them apart boys. No need to disrupt the others any further." Antonio offered, his own hands up as if he too needed to defend himself. Toris didn't know what the man looked like without that smile, but he didn't _want _to. Behind it was something much like his own, he imagined. Once the noise-makers were apart the volume settled down again, and Toris gave a sigh. Feliciano was already finishing a sketch of Gilbert who was smiling at him now. With a sigh of his own, Toris looked back to Ivan to check on him as well. They'd gotten quite loud that time… The Russian was still painting though, and he decided to finally go over and give it a look.

The Russian didn't even glance up as he was approached from the other side of the table. The brunette came to stand across from him, leaning in a little to see what he was painting. Green eyes widened when he saw it, giving a soft sound of surprise. Several round shapes with oblong tops, all of them varying shapes and colors. Near the tops were faces, but on the rounder places were pictures. Mythological creatures, most of them, except for the smallest piece, which was blank so far. "Ivan," He said quietly as not to disturb him. "That's wonderful…" Violet eyes rose from the paper then, the Russian's brush stopping before it reached the next color, red. "Matryoshka, _da_?"

"_Da,_" Ivan replied. "What else would they be?" He rose an eyebrow, holding his scarf up over his nose with his free hand. The Lithuanian's face colored a little,

"I-I don't know, I just meant…" He stopped when he heard the small chuckle. "H-hey… Don't tease me."

"You're too easy." Ivan shrugged, dipping his brush into the red paint. He drew a little red oval on the next to the smallest doll, letting it drip around the mark.

"Fair enough." He pulled out the chair in front of him, taking a seat. "Explain it to me?"

"How does a doctor ask a patient to explain himself? You'll never make it like _that…_" Ivan chastised, tsking his tongue. Toris frowned,

"I'm not a doctor."

"No, but you want to be, _da_?" Another raised eyebrow as the red paint was swished away in the cup of water. The brunette bit his lower lip, giving a small nod. "Then you can tell me what this is?" He tapped the picture with his finger. Toris frowned, taking a closer look at it.

"…Most of them tell a story, or a myth of some sort. But this is just random creatures, all of them mythical. I don't know any story like this… The last one should be the end, right? Perhaps… The myths are dreams." He wondered now, drawn into this painted world.

"_Aah_, you're very close." Ivan said excitedly.

"Finish the last one and I can tell you." The Lithuanian bluffed. But The blond only smiled, setting his paint brush down.

"That's just it… It _is _finished…"

"You're messing with me again!" The orderly accused. Ivan lowered his scarf to reveal his blank expression.

"_Nyet, _not this time. The last little one is blank…" He traced the outline with his finger fondly. "I thought that if you could tell me what it should be… Maybe I would know too." Toris gave a small shake of his head.

"I still don't know how much of you is real yet, and how much is games, Ivan." He lamented. Ivan shook his head sadly, looking up to give a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Even if I told you, Toris, you wouldn't believe me." He shrugged. The brunette sat up straighter, reaching across the table to touch Ivan's hand.

"I _would_. I would at least _try._" He said quietly, with all of the honesty that he had in him—quite a lot really. The Russian tilted his head as if he was thoughtful, pausing for a while. Toris waited eagerly, until finally he spoke up.

"…What did Yao say to you?" He asked in a very calm, very cool tone. Toris' smile strained.

"Dr. Wong? He just wanted to introduce himse…!" He stopped when Ivan's hand slid out from under his own, coming down on top to grasp his wrist. "Ah…" He started to look over to see if anyone was watching, but Ivan's voice stopped him.

"_Don't look. _Look at _me, _Toris." The Russian coaxed, his voice soft and sweet. His smile didn't reach his eyes though, and it gave the orderly a cold chill down along his spine. "Good… Now who's the one playing games?" He almost sounded hurt, and Toris' guilty expression gave him away. "You wanted me to trust you, but you lie to me just like all of the oth…" Ivan trailed off as Toris' other hand came to rest over the one holding his.

"He told me to be careful of you. That you like me, and you'll … do things. He didn't specify what. That's what he told me Ivan." The brunette said firmly, keeping his voice low. "I didn't want your feelings to be hurt or something, in case he was saying something that wasn't true. You wouldn't hurt me, would you? You said so. You were going to protect me. Or was that part the game?" Violet eyes widened a little, and the blond pulled his scarf back up.

"_Nyet._"

"There you have it then." He released Ivan's hand, and in turn the grip on his own was loosened. Toris smiled, removing his other hand and standing up. He moved to leave when Ivan's voice stopped him.

"_Tebye_." He scooted the paper across the table, towards the brunette. Toris smiled more, reaching down to take it.

"_Spaciba_!" He said as he lifted it.

"Toris!" A female voice called from the door. Sarah stood there, waving when he looked over. "We could use your to help with dinner set up today."

"I'll be right there! Just let me put this in my locker." He indicated the picture. He just knew that Eduard was going to tease him for bringing home art from work…

* * *

Dinner was mostly uneventful. Aside from the usual close calls between the bickering patients it was relatively pleasant, even. Now that everyone was fed and settled down, some of the patients had gathered around the TV in the common room, sitting on the couches and chairs. Gilbert sat on one side of the couch while the space beside him was empty, Feliciano sitting on the other side of that and leaning against his brother, who was against the other arm of the couch. Antonio looked on from his seat on another couch. Alfred was digging in the cabinet under the TV set, looking through the DVD's there. "Ah, ah-ha!" He pulled one out. Feliciano shook his head quickly.

"That one's scary, isn't it?"

Over near the window, Ivan sat alone with his gaze directed outside, as if something out there was infinitely more interesting than all of the people around him. Sarah stepped up from the side, smiling at Antonio. "Dr. Carriedo, we have a small situation that we need your help with."

"_Sì_, of course!" He stood up lazily, glancing over to the brunette. "Oh, Toris! Come over here and have a seat! All you have to do is watch these boys and make sure they don't get out of hand!" He patted the arm of the couch. Toris nodded with a small smile, walking over to take a seat. "You'll be good for Toris, won't you guys?" Various answers were given, but they all seemed pretty positive. Antonio wondered off, leaving Toris, and Shaun who stood by the window on his cell phone, to watch the group.

"Ok, _this _one!" Alfred announced, putting a DVD in. "It's got lots of action, and the hero's awesome." Everyone seemed fine with this, except for Ivan who glanced over his shoulder to give the American a raised eyebrow.

"The one where the villain is Russian, _da_?" He asked. Alfred gave his charming smile,

"Of course!" He exclaimed as he stood up straight. Ivan gave a small 'Hm' before he faced the window again, and Alfred charged over to toss himself onto the couch next to Toris.

"Careful now!" The brunette chided, though he was smiling.

"Shhh!" The American waved his hand, leaning on the orderly. Toris sighed and kept quiet, turning his attention to the TV screen. He missed the glare in the reflection of the dark window, narrow violet eyes settling on the innocent pair on the couch. By the time the movie would be over, Toris still had a night shift to look forward too, and he was already so tired… It was all he could do to stay awake…


	4. Chapter 4

I had hoped to update earlier in June but things were crazy (birthdays and cosplay), so sorry for the delay! I'm dedicating myself to this fic more considering the amount of watchers it has gained. Part of that is thanks to Arafel and her amazing fanart! And the comics she draws me for inspiration, |D.

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Toris was awakened by the snickering of those around him, and a gentle touch to his hair. There was a grating of a chair on the smooth tile floor before it toppled over with a clatter. This brought the young intern to sit up straight from where he had been leaning against a warm body, turning his head in time to see Ivan walking away towards the hallway that led to the patient's rooms. "Wh-what, ah, did I…?" He wondered, glancing around. He was met with amused smiles, including Alfred who he had been laying against.

"You fell asleep!" Feliciano offered, giving a yawn for himself. "Movie's over…"

"O-oh no! Where…" The brunette glanced around, finding no other orderly in sight save for Sarah who sat back at the safe room filing her nails. "Where did Shaun go?"

"Out to smoke," Gilbert bit at his thumbnail, "Wouldn't give me and Fritz one either, _arschloch._"

"Because they're unhealthy!" Feli spoke up again, frowning. Lovino gave a smirk,

"That's not why he didn't give him one. He didn't give him one because he's an—"

"A-alright!" Toris stood up, rubbing the sleep from his eye and trying to fix his hair. He undid it to do this, smoothing it back to re-tie. "S-Sorry about that Alfred. That was really unprofessional of me…" What could have happened if someone had wandered off while he was asleep! Toris' heart was pounding so hard that he could hear it in his ears. Even if Shaun was supposed to be here in case of something like that, it didn't mean it was alright to fall asleep. And _on _a patient! Of course Alfred only smiled as he stood, taller than the orderly. The American patted his shoulder firmly,

"No problem man! You should have seen the looks that Commie was shooting at me though!" He laughed, but the brunette frowned.

"That's not… Alfred, you shouldn't…" His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Shaun coming back from the safe room, giving a sigh. He glanced to the clock above it to see that it was about 9:40. "Looks like it's time for bed." _For you all, _he thought to himself. As for Toris, it would be another eight hours before he was allowed that privilege. Groans and protests erupted from everyone all at once, surprising the Lithuanian for a moment. It was Shaun who came to his 'rescue' with a loud and brash voice,

"Alright crazies, lights out!" He said with a clap of his hands. Pointing to Feliciano, he didn't even change his tone, "That means you had better get changed and out of here." The Italian looked saddened by this, but nodded.

"Hey, that's not fair at all! I didn't even get to visit with him!" Gilbert raised his voice. Lovino glared, undaunted by his brother who stepped in front of him to keep him from stepping forward.

"Screw you, bastard! He's _my _brother!" The older of the two shouted back.

"Well he's _fucking_ mine_, _so practically that makes him my brother too! God damn _eyetie_!" The German tapped his forehead, and Lovino laughed.

"You just insulted Feliciano too, idiot!"

"H-hey, stop it you two!" Toris interjected himself as well, standing in front of Gilbert. Alfred on the other hand was laughing, seeming to enjoy the chaos. Shaun only sighed, grabbing Feli's upper arm and pulling him away from his brother.

"Now he's no one's! You two get off to bed before I call for Jeff to come help me drag your asses there and strap you down!" He demanded of them, drawing both of their glares straight to him instead of each other. For a few tense beats of his heart, Toris was afraid they'd both pounce and tear him apart with the force of those looks. Gilbert turned away first, cursing as he headed for the hallway. Both Feli and Toris breathed sighs of relief as he left. The Italian turned to his brother, reaching out to touch his arm.

"I'll come back tomorrow…" He winced as Lovino pulled his arm back before it was touched, heading off towards the hall as well.

"Toris, take him back to the brake room to change. His ride should be here at ten exactly." Shaun let go of the smaller brunette, moving off in the direction that the other two had gone, likely to make sure that they didn't change their minds and decide to fight. Feliciano's eyes were watering but he hid it well, giving a small smile to the orderly left behind.

"S-sorry to inconvenience you."

"No, not at all!" Toris shook his head. He held out his hand towards the safe room, and they both began to walk. "Are those two… always like that?" The Lithuanian asked warily. One of them was Feliciano's _brother _after all. And what had Gilbert said about _his _brother?

"_Sì_, unfortunately! Well… _Fratello_'s always hated me for putting him in here… But I couldn't take it anymore. It was putting too much strain on my relationship and work, and Dr. Antonio seems so nice! Don't you think?"

"Dr. Carriedo? Ah yes, he's very kind! I admire him already. I hope someday I can be as good as he is with … difficult patients. No offense, of course…" They reached the door to the safe room as Feli laughed, giving a shake of his head as they were buzzed through.

"None taken! As for Gilbert, he _wanted _to come here. At least that's what he said…" Reaching the door to the brake room, Toris hesitated.

"Do… do you want me to wait outside?" He asked with a tinge of pink to his cheeks.

"What? Why would you do that? Come on, we can talk while I change!" Feliciano smiled, pushing open the door and stepping into the brake room as if he belonged there. Toris followed him inside, sitting down on a bottom bunk bed. The Lithuanian opened his mouth to speak, but he was stopped in sudden surprise when the other dropped his pants, stepping out of them without a care. His shirt came next, and when those hands settled on his boxers, green eyes moved away quickly. D-did he have no shame at all? What if Sarah walked in! Swallowing, he spoke slowly,

"S-so…"

"Oh, right! I couldn't say it around _fratello,_ but my partner is also my lover. He's also Gilbert's brother…" Feliciano pulled some clothing from a bag, slipping on a red silk pair of boxers. A pair of nice black slacks were next, and he leaned against the lockers as he slipped them on.

"O-oh, I see…" _Then he's gay. _That much was obvious from what he said, but the Italian's nonchalant attitude about it was what was surprising to the orderly. The way he said it without even a hint of awkwardness or shame… Could _he _ever…?

"You should meet him!" Feliciano burst out with, buttoning up his shirt now. Glancing back to the other brunette, Toris was surprised at the change that clothes could make. Before he'd almost seemed right in place amongst the others in his scrubs which matched his brother's, but now he was looking rather stylish and professional. Yet still that slightly goofy smile reminded him that he was the same, and the orderly smiled back.

"I-I have work…"

"Ohh, that's right! I almost forgot!" Feli was slipping on his socks, moving on to his shoes quickly. "He's always so eager to go he would probably be rude anyway! He doesn't like this place much…" Standing again, the Italian had fully transitioned. Stuffing the scrubs into the bag he'd pulled his nice clothing from, he slung it over his shoulder. "Thank you for letting me change!"

"Of course." Toris said s he stood. They headed for the door, "You said you'll be back tomorrow?"

"Mmhm! We're in town for business, and this time I'm _determined _to get Ludwig to visit his brother!" Feliciano made a fist, his expression almost comically stubborn. Toris tried not to smile,

"That's your…"

"My partner! He said that's what I should call him, because 'lover' is embarrassing." That hand which was a fist now waved as if dismissing such a silly notion. They reached the safe room, and the Italian stopped along with Toris. Suddenly the other had his arms around him, and Toris stood up straight as he was hugged.

"Ah!"

"It was nice to meet you, Toris! Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked excitedly. The brunette was blushing, as Sarah was smiling over at them.

"N-no, I'm off…"

"Awww… Well, have fun for me!" He let go, waving his hand. Sarah buzzed him through the door, and he stepped out. "_Ciao_!" He called to them, and the two orderlies waved back. Once he had vanished around corner, the female orderly turned to face him.

"He's something isn't he? Comes here at least once a month, stays from dawn until dusk. He does everything with his brother, and sometimes Gilbert. Such a sweet guy… such a waste." She sighed.

"W-waste?" Toris frowned slightly.

"You know he's gay right? And loaded, too! I heard his dad was some kind of Mafioso or something." She smiled even wider. Toris laughed,

"Just because he's Italian? You sound like my brother Raivis. He reads one too many romance novels…" The brunette leaned against the counter, glancing to the security screens. Shaun and Michael were in the halls now, checking that everyone was tucked in to bed. He couldn't help but think of how Ivan had stormed off without a word after the movie…

"Oh no, not me. Elizaveta reads those things, though. Anyway it's just talk. As if a mafia kid would be in this place. Wouldn't they just let him go on rampage and cover up after him? Feliciano's the sweet one though… Hey, do you think it's true?"

"What's true?"

"That it's always the people you don't expect! That maybe they _are _mafia kids and Feliciano got his brother put in here so that he could take over since he's not the oldest! If he—" Toris' eyes widened a little.

"N-no! I-I don't think it's like that at all! I mean, Feliciano seems genuinely nice…" He frowned. Sarah shrugged it off.

"Ah, you're probably right. It would have been cool though." She grinned. The brunette sighed, tucking his bangs back behind his ear.

"You have a strange definition of 'cool'…" Toris' eyes wandered back to the screens. "Any idea who I'm on with tonight?" He decided to change the subject. He wasn't interested in baseless gossip and people's private lives. He wanted to help the people here, and if he listened to all of the stories then there was no way that he could do that. Sarah merely pointed her hand to the door as she pressed the button with her other. Toris turned around to find Elizaveta walking into the room, glancing around.

"You just missed him." Sarah said as she stood up, heading over to the door before it closed. Liz's expression was sad as she sighed, moving out of the way so that the blond could leave.

"Again! Alright, goodnight Sarah!" She waved to the other as she left, letting the door close before she turned to Toris. Elizaveta was dressed in a dark-green summer dress, which hugged her above the waist tightly but hung loose to flow over her legs. On her shoulders was a coat that was definitely a man's—and a nice one at that, and she wore strapped black heels which made her even taller than she already was. Toris rose one eyebrow even as he blushed.

"A-a date?" He asked.

"What, this?" She pinched her skirt, lifting it a little. "Just a little get together with my husband. He _knew _I had to work tonight, but he just _had _to keep me out as late as possib…" She was cut off by a loud wolf-whistle from outside the safe room. Immediately glaring, her entire demeanor changed as Michael and Shaun approached. "You'll have to excuse me Toris, I should get changed. _Don't _let them in." She shifted her gaze to the brunette, who stood up rather straight.

"Y-yes ma'am. I mean okay!" Toris said wisely. Liz headed to the brake room while Mike and Shaun reached the door, knocking on it. The young orderly gave them a helpless shrug, but Shaun was pointing behind him on the counter. Turning to see the pack of cigarettes, Toris sighed. He picked them up and moved over to the window, opening it enough to slip them through.

"Aw c'mon, man!" Shaun tossed his hands up, bending down to pick the pack up off the floor. Mike patted his shoulder, shooting the brunette a glare.

"Don't sweat it, you know he's whipped. Kiss her ass good, Toris!" They both laughed as they started for the hallway leading out, but Toris called after them,

"At least that's closer than you'll ever get to her, Michael!" He closed the window, but he could hear Shaun's double as Mike flipped him off. Once they were out of sight he heard clapping, startling him enough to jump. Wide green eyes settled on Liz who was leaning against the wall of the hall leading to the break room.

"Y-you change fast… I didn't mean…!"

"Relax, kid!" Elizaveta giggled. "That was a good one. I'm glad to see you fight back! Most new guys fall right into their pranks, didn't I tell you? They try and one up them, treat the patients twice as bad, as well as each other. But don't push it _too _far…" She headed for the seat by the screens, the one that Sarah had been sitting in. Sitting down, she set her novel on the counter. "The patients aren't _our _allies or friends either…" Reaching out, she touched the screen of the hallway that was lined with doors, the rooms. Toris was quiet for a moment, sitting down in an empty chair that faced Liz's.

There were so many questions that he wanted to ask her, but weren't they all a little… personal? She hated gossip, so what if she thought he was just trying to get juicy details for it? Though mostly, it was himself that he wanted to figure out. As much as he analyzed himself, it was useless with only his own opinions. Elizaveta glanced over to the younger man, her expression a little worried. She stayed quiet though, until he finally looked up. Offering him a smile was all it took to get Toris to bit his lower lip, his voice coming out quiet when he spoke. He swallowed, throat tight, "It's… Overwhelming."

"I know it is." She answered.

"This is… I mean I want _so much _to help, but I don't know _anything_! I mean I _know _it but I've never _seen _it quite like this! I'm a … I'm _afraid _of everything around me." He continued, clenching his hands into fists in his lap. Liz nodded,

"That's normal."

"Is it? Did you ever think about quitting something even before you started? It's stupid." He shook his head before she could answer. "I won't quit. No matter what, I'm going to see it through. I believe in what I'm doing. If it gets me hurt then I'll learn my lesson, but if it works then I'm not going to give up just because it's hard!"

"That's good to hear, Toris."

"I want to be like Dr. Carriedo." He glanced up.

"Antonio?" Liz rose one eyebrow, smiling.

"Why not? I can grin and bear it too you know! I did it for most of my life, how hard can it be? I mean his method is a little extreme… and I don't know if Lovino really _learns _anything from it, but he puts everyone at ease." Toris nodded.

"Well, I can't argue with that much, I suppose. He also flirts with everything on two legs." She chuckled. Toris' cheeks colored.

"I-I noticed that, a little… Ah, who was that other doctor… Wong…?"

"Yao Wong?" She giggled now. "That grumpy old Chinese man?" Toris nodded. "Man's a mystery. He always does private sessions, and he hates group. Gets really uncomfortable when there's too many people around. I think he hates this whole place some days, but he'll never say it straight out."

"He said he was Ivan's primary…"

"Ohh, that's right. He's been here longer than Ivan has, but he took over him soon as he got here. Ivan's too unstable for group. He does alright in classes and things most days, but if you ask him anything about himself in front of others, he clams up tight and sometimes even gets violent." The female orderly leaned back in her chair, glancing to the screens again.

"I see…" They fell into another small silence, but this time Toris seemed to breathe easier. He didn't know what it was about Elizaveta that put him at ease, but he felt so much better after voicing his fears and talking to her. Licking his lips swiftly, he glanced up again. "E-Elizaveta… Um, do you know Feliciano?"

"Hm?" She blinked, looking his way.

"When you came in, Sarah said you just missed him. Feliciano had just left, so I thought… And you had punched Gilbert, so maybe you knew him too?" At that though, those kind eyes changed a little, as if a shadow had come over her perpetual cheer. "I-I'm sorry, it's none of my business!"

"No no… No, it's alright." She waved her hand. "You opened up to _me_, after all." With another smile, this one a little sad, Liz sat back up in her chair. "I know them, yes. I grew up with Gilbert and his younger brother Ludwig back in Germany. You probably wouldn't believe it, but I was quite the tomboy!"

"I… I can believe it." Toris chuckled. That was why he had been so surprised to see her in such a dress earlier.

"Well, we met the Vargas brothers later. There was a bit of a tiff when everyone found out about Ludwig and Feliciano…" She smiled fondly, but there was still somehow a kind of sadness about her. "But then I met the Weillschmidt brother's cousin… And I fell in love. Though we married, I didn't want to give up my career and he didn't want to lose his. So we have a kind of long-distance marriage." She held out her hand palm out and fingers splayed to inspect her painted nails—and ring—with a smile. Toris smiled as well,

"Thank you… For listening, and for sharing with me. Th-though I feel a little silly…" He admitted. Liz reached over, patting his leg.

"Don't. Really. We all have doubts now and then, believe me. Like when I hauled off and hit Gilbert. I was out for over a week on that one, by my own choice… I thought I wasn't fit for this line of work if I couldn't even see the difference between my old friend and a patient anymore. Of course I knew him then, but… He's changed, and I couldn't accept that. But Toris… there _is _a difference, you know?" She asked with a slightly worried frown.

"What? Ah, of course I know! Still… I don't think that I can say there's too much difference. I don't think the fact that they're patients means we can't be friends as well. It just means we have to be there for them twice as much because we're all they have. Is that wrong?" He frowned as well. Liz smiled, patting his leg again before she sat back.

"No. But I'm going to need some tea if we're going to continue this talk. You brought some more, right?"

"Of course." Toris got up with a small smile, heading for the break room. His hands were blessedly still as he got the tea, heating paper cups full of water in the microwave residing in the brake room. He was so tired that it was hard to keep his eyes open, startling at the sound of the microwave beeping when it finished. Taking the cups out carefully he set the tea bags in them, stirring them with a spoon slightly as he added some of his own flavored powder. He was no less overwhelmed really, but at least now he had hope! He'd met a doctor he could look up to, and he had at least one orderly on his side. She knew several of the patients too, so he could ask her if he had any questions. He wasn't _alone._

They made it two hours before it came this time. Instead of with a scream, it began with a loud crash. Liz jumped enough to spill her fresh cup of tea, cursing just as the shouting began. Several patients had been awakened by the noise, and none of them happy. Louder than them all was the one belonging to the Russian, though it was accompanied by several more loud bangs and crashes.

"Damn it!" Elizaveta stood up, shaking off her wet hand. "I have half a mind to just call security and drug the bastard!" Toris frowned in worry, standing up and setting his own tea aside.

"I-I can…" He paused as he saw her reaching for the medicine, pulling down a bottle and shaking out two pills. She placed them in a small cup, handing them to the younger orderly.

"I'm sure as hell not going. I'll punch him for making me burn myself! But if I hear you shout once, security it is. Got it?" She asked, frowning in all seriousness. Toris nodded quickly, happy to be trusted with this much.

"I got it." He waved away the cup of water, reaching instead for his cup of tea. "He should like this better." The brunette explained, heading for the door. Liz hid her smile as she buzzed him through, wishing him good luck.

"_Fucking Commie_!" Came a shout from the door across from Ivan's, followed by several bangs of fists on his door. "_I was sleeping_!"

"Alfred, that's not helping anyone!" Toris chastised, and the American fell quiet as the orderly opened Ivan's door. No sooner than it was opened than a hand grabbed his collar, pulling him in and spilling his tea on his hand as he was pushed up against a wall. The door closed beside him, and Toris winced. "C-careful—!"

"Do you like him?" A low, quiet voice asked him as Ivan buried his face into the brunette's neck. Toris had to hold the pills and tea to the right side as not to be crushed between them, his other hand on Ivan's chest. Somehow on this second day he'd begun to get used to the Russian's odd lack of personal space, so he wasn't quite as frightened of it anymore.

"W-who?" He asked in an only _slightly _wavering voice.

"_Alfred._" Ivan murmured, and Toris shuddered as those lips brushed his neck. Ivan's right hand slipped behind the orderly's head, pulling out his hair tie.

"I-I suppose so. I just met him, so…"

"_Mn._" Ivan seemed unhappy with his, fingers pinching at where they held the brunette's collar now. "Better… better than me?" Toris frowned, his face feeling heat up.

"Did you make all of that noise just to ask me that?" He asked. Ivan gave a huff of breath and a small shrug.

"Answer me." The Russian snapped quietly.

"I shouldn't! Here I brought you pills with tea and everything and all of that was just a…" Ivan pulled back enough to look up, violet eyes dark in the dim light coming in from the window.

"_Tea? Toris… Toris brought me tea_?" The blond asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, but I don't know if you should have it n—" Toris was cut off as Ivan let him go, smiling even more.

"_Ura_!" He held out his hands eagerly, as giddy as a child receiving candy. Toris hesitated for only a moment before he slowly handed the two cups over to him. Ivan tossed the pills into his mouth, taking a sip of the tea. Closing his eyes, his lips parted for a sound so small that the brunette thought he might have even imagined it. It made him blush for some reason, seeing his reaction to something he had made. The Russian's eyes half-opened, his smile ever so pleased. "Toris _does _like me…" He lifted the cup to his lips again, drinking the rest of the still-hot tea down without so much as a wince. "_Ahh…_" He gasped as he lowered the cup, tossing it aside as he grabbed Toris' wrist.

"H-hey, what are you…!" The smaller man protested as he was pulled along towards the bed.

"Toris has to make up for sleeping on another man!" Ivan proclaimed bluntly, pushing the orderly to sit onto the bed by the pillow.

"Now wait a moment—Iva—!" He had to cover his own mouth as he remembered Liz's warning about him shouting, but by that time the Russian had already laid down, placed his head on Toris' lap and covered himself with the waiting blanket. He turned onto his back to stare up at the blushing and flustered brunette, while he himself was grinning contentedly. Reaching up, Ivan gently took a hold of Toris' wrist, lowering his hands away from his mouth. With those out of the way, the back of his knuckles gently brushed reddened cheeks. Not even the darkness of the room could hide that heat, and he chuckled softly at it. "I _knew _it was a game…" Toris murmured, sounding almost hurt. Ivan's fingers played with a bit of the brunette's bangs. When he spoke his voice was sweet, and quiet. The way that one might talk to a child…

"They do what they want, Toris." Ivan tugged on Toris' bangs, and then went back to touching his face. "Even when we're sane, we're crazy in here… You take care of an old person or a sick person because they can't do it themselves. But we are neither of those things. Once we're here we're stuck. And they do what they want." Toris was alarmed at the sudden weight of those words, frowning.

"What do you mean, Ivan?"

"Sing to me, _moy drug_."

"But what did you…"

"How do you say 'please' in Lithuanian?" Ivan interrupted.

"Ah… _Prasau._" Toris said, uneasiness settling in his stomach. He touched Ivan's bangs, brushing them aside. The Russian lowered his own hand then, closing his eyes.

"_Prasau, _sing to me… Just until I fall asleep. I don't care what, I just want to hear your voice…" He relaxed then, smiling slightly. Toris cleared his throat, feeling it tighten up instead of loosen. He began to hum instead, a wordless song. It was a tune which had stuck with him throughout the years, something he remembered from his grandmother. It was soft and quiet, but he closed his eyes and stopped thinking so much about being embarrassed soon enough. The weight of the head on his lap was warm and comforting, his fingers playing with Ivan's bangs all on their own as he hummed.

A few minutes later he opened his eyes to find the Russian asleep as promised, his breathing slow and even. It was all he could to get up for himself, he was so tired! And the blond looked so... _peaceful. _He'd sounded so saddened when he'd spoken earlier, about being trapped. It was all that he could do to hope that his dreams were as peaceful as his expression. Toris laid Ivan's head gently onto the pillow. Leaning down close, he whispered again, "_Spokoynoy nochi'_, Ivan."

Quietly he left the room, closing the door behind him. From across the hall, he heard a hushed voice ask, "He alright?" Smiling a little, he moved over to the door to answer back,

"Ivan's fine, Alfred." Toris said quietly.

"…Good." A shuffling came from the door as the American moved away from it, and a flop as he must have reached his bed. Content, Toris moved on. Elizaveta lowered her novel to buzz him in as he approached, smiling slightly.

"Sleeping?" She asked.

"Peacefully… I hope." Toris answered as he sat down, only just now realizing that he didn't have any tea left.

"Well I would be too if I had someone as cute as you to tuck me in whenever I raised a fit." She half-hid her face behind the novel as she smiled, watching Toris' face turn a shade of red. Laughing, she reached out to pat his leg again. "I'm just kidding, honey! Honestly, you're just too easy!" Laughing along with her, although a little shyly, Toris smiled as well. At least when Liz teased him he knew she wasn't judging him. Though what Ivan had said to him was still bugging him a little, there was no use thinking about it on this tired mind of his. He had a whole day tomorrow to try and figure things out a bit for himself.

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For extra notes as well as fanart, go here: http:/ sephielyajmaxwell. deviantart .com/journal/33278473/ (Without spaces)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N

Another _huge _thanks to Arafel for her constant little doodles and comics that keep me going with this fic! And of course, those who actually review and let me know you're still interested. ^^; It helps, it really does.

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The bus ride home took longer than expected. He missed his stop because he fell asleep, and was only woken up thanks to a noisy pair of businessmen who got on at the stop after his own. By the time that he reached the apartment he was already about to collapse, dropping his bag beside the door. He had class at one in the afternoon though, so he couldn't sleep long. Best to start now, as it was already almost 8:30. Clothing soon littered the floor in a trail towards his bed, until only his boxers remained. Falling onto the bed with a _womph _of air from the blankets, he lazily pulled them over his tired body. Setting the alarm was the last thing he could manage before he was out like a light.

Four hours of sleep was better than nothing, Toris thought as stepped off of the bus with a yawn. Thankfully he lived a lot closer to school than he did from work. His hair was still wet from his quick shower, pulled back into a pony-tail out of need this time. In an hour or two it would become unmanageable if he left it free. It was the bane of having such thick hair. There was however nothing he could do about the circles under his eyes. He even thought about buying some make up to hide them if this was going to continue, but then if it continued just like this he wasn't going to survive more than a few weeks. With a proper schedule he was confident that he could make things work out better. That second overnight was what had gotten to him, that's all! As for everything else that was bothering him at the institution…

Most of it had been resolved since he had spoken to Liz again. And meeting a doctor that he could look up to helped as well. A bit of a culture shock, but he had expected no less. And it was for school credit, too! Good experience and more schooling for his record, all he had to do was survive. If there was one thing the stubborn Lithuanian was good at, it was surviving. His class today was Introduction to Social Psychology, and for that he was thankful. He liked his teacher, Mr. Oxenstierna, and he would be able to see Tino as well. He'd met Tino about a year and a half ago, though truth be told the Finn was closer to his brother Eduard than himself. Tino was in the same field as Toris, psychology, and he had a very kind heart. After staying over a few nights to study together, he'd gotten to know Eduard and the two had somehow become fast friends. Tino also really looked up to Mr. Oxenstierna, or Berwald as he preferred to be called.

It was after the third nudge of Tino's elbow to his ribs that Toris woke up, one palm striking the desk as he sat upright. Luckily not many students around them noticed, and the brunette was thankful for the size of the class for that. "Are you alright, Toris?" Tino asked with a frown, his expression looking worried.

"O-oh, yeah." Toris responded quietly as he rubbed at one eye, suppressing a yawn. "I'm just tired is all."

"That's right! Your internship started this week, huh?" The blond smiled.

"Yeah… I did an extra overnight shift, so I've barely had any sleep." The brunette managed a weak smile, and Tino looked worried again. He opened his mouth to respond, but Berwald's strongly accented voice stopped him.

"Lorinaitis, Väinämöinen," Berwald was the only one he knew who could say Tino's last name without a hitch, "Is there a problem?" The intensity of those blue eyes made the Lithuanian want to cower for some reason, and he tensed at receiving such a look. He'd seen students go white when they were looked at like that before, so he didn't feel too bad… Tino however shook his head with a small smile,

"He's just tired is all. Not feeling too well. I think I should take him to the nurse."

"N-no, that's not really…" Toris interjected, but Berwald was quicker.

"Take him." He gave a short nod, and the brunette knew that was the end of it. Once the Swede made a decision there was no going back. With a sigh Toris closed his book, sliding it into his bag and hefting it up as he stood, Tino smiling as Berwald continued to talk. It wasn't as if they would miss anything too important… Berwald would fill Tino in later, and he in turn would give Toris the details of their homework. The seemingly stern teacher had a thing for the little Finn, which was no secret to the class' female population at least. Not that Tino even seemed to notice the one-sided crush. Poor Berwald…

Once they were out of the classroom, Toris spoke up again. "I didn't really need to go to the nurse…" He protested.

"I know." Tino smiled.

"Then why…?"

"When's the last time you ate?" The Finn asked, frowning at the brunette. Toris thought for a moment, but the sudden twist of his stomach answered for him. He'd forgotten to grab something when he had gotten home from work, and before he came to school… Tino laughed at the tell tale expression his friend was making, nodding his head. "I thought so. To the cafeteria! I want to hear _all _about your internship so far!"

Two slices of pizza and a coke and a half later, Toris was talking animatedly about the institution. From the way the other orderlies behaved and what they looked like, to how nice Elizaveta had been and about meeting Doctor Carriedo. He even told him about the day before, and meeting Alfred, and that Feliciano was allowed to stay the day and visit with his brother as if he too was a patient. Of course he mentioned Ivan, and a few of the things that he had done for the Russian… Getting him to take his medication, and how the other orderlies had played a joke on him at the blond patient's expense. Tino seemed just as angry about it as he was, which made Toris feel a bit justified in his reaction.

Of course, there were some things he _didn't _tell Tino as well… Like how he 'tucked Ivan in at night' as Liz had put it. The very thought made his face flush a little, though the Finn thankfully didn't seem to notice. "The only thing is, I can't let go of how some of the patients are treated… I mean I know I don't know them well enough to make any choices for them, but I think the orderlies could do so much more than… babysit." Toris said instead. Tino gave a small shrug, swallowing the piece of fish he'd been chewing on.

"But that's what most of the others are paid for, right? I mean the ones who don't see their lives going anywhere. They get paid pretty well from what I hear. They just want as little trouble as possible for what money they get." The blond said, sipping at his iced tea.

"But there must be something I could do… Maybe complain. Liz thinks it's a bad idea, though. She said that if I complained, even if they were chastised that they'd know it was me, and they'd make my life hell." Toris frowned. Not that he couldn't handle a few jerks at work, but they'd already proven that they weren't above using a few patients to get back at him.

"She's right!" Tino spoke up a bit, nodding his head. "Unfortunately, I think it would seem a little pretentious of you to complain just yet. Make a list of things that they do maybe, but don't let them know! When you have enough real evidence, _then _you can bring it to someone who can make a difference. As it is now, you're just the new guy…" Toris sighed, looking downhearted.

"Maybe you're right…" He said dejectedly. They were both quiet for a while as Tino ate a few more chips, before the brunette decided to change the subject. Just as he was discussing his normal schedule with the other, something heavy pressed on him from behind. With a joint effort, Tino and Toris managed to grab his half-finished coke before it spilled just before arms wrapped around his neck.

"_Oh my God, Toris_!" A loud voice announced from much too close to his ear. "You have no idea how much I missed you!" The brunette coughed, one hand moving up to pat the newcomer's arm.

"I-I think… I do, Feliks." He said in a lightly strained voice. He was released quickly, and his friend dropped quickly into the vacant seat to Toris' right. The other was shorter than he was by just a little, and his blond hair came down to just about touch his shoulders in a straight cut. Eyes as green as the Lithuanian's own, Feliks was smiling wide as he slipped off his bedazzled jean jacket. His wrists jingled with thin bangles, earrings giving a soft sound as well as he brushed his hair behind his ears.

"Hi Tino." Feliks offered to the Finn, who waved in response. Tino often got quieter when loud people were around, probably the reason that he and Berwald got along so well. They could both sit and be quiet for hours without disturbing one another. That wasn't to say the small blond was shy though, as Toris knew he had plenty of friends besides himself and Eduard. "_So_!" Feliks' voice rose again in excitement as he picked up his messenger style bag. It was a beaten old bag with patches and pins covering every inch of it, most of them in Polish. Reaching inside of it he proudly pulled out an object, handing it to Toris. "I got you some things, so be thankful!" The first 'thing' was a sealed package of thin smoked sausages known as kabanos. "And because I love you." The second object that he pulled out was a small yellow plastic bag with the words 'Paluszki' on it. Thin baked sticks were inside, Polish salt snacks.

"Th-thank you, Feliks." Toris smiled, honestly touched. He'd known Feliks when he was a kid, though they'd been separated for most of middle school when Feliks' father's job had taken them back home to Poland for a few years. They met again in high school, when he moved back to Vilnius with his newly divorced mother, and it was there they'd decided to come all the way to the U.K. for school. Just by looking at him, you'd never know that the flamboyant blond was a Literature major. He'd just gotten back from his trip home, apparently. "How was your mom?"

"Oh, you know her. She could hardly wait for me to be out of her hair so that she could go back to her boozing ways! She says hi by the way." He waved his hand in a shrug, reaching out to snatch Toris' coke and take a long drink.

"Oh, tell her hello for me." Toris smiled a little more. Feliks' mother might be a bit hopeless like her son, but she was a good woman.

"'Kay." Feliks whipped out his phone, tapping away on it with his stylus.

"So, Toris… About your schedule?" Tino spoke up, leaning in again.

"Oh yes! I work evenings… That's two to ten on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday. My overnights, from ten to six in the morning are Tuesday and Thursday normally…" Toris listed off.

"W-wow, that's a lot of hours…" Tino's light blue eyes blinked.

"48, but I do get breaks, and they're paid ones. Though I don't get paid as much as the others… It's better than nothing." Toris sighed. They were both startled by Feliks' laughter, all eyes turning on the blond.

"She says 'You tell him if he ever wants a real mama to come on home to me!'. Can you believe that bitch? She knows I got first dibs if you ever wanna lose it." The Pole chuckled. Toris' face went red,

"Feliks!" He protested, drawing a few glances as Tino went quiet again and the blond's laughter only increased into helpless giggling.

"I can't help it, you're too easy."

"You wish." Toris murmured, gathering up his bag as he stood up.

"Hey, where are you going? You have to tell me about the intern thing!" Feliks complained.

"Another time, I need to get some sleep first. I'll call you later, alright? Bye Tino." He waved to the Finn, and then gathered up his trash, leaving the coke for Feliks.

"Fine, fine." The Pole stood up, kissing his friend on the cheek. "Call me later. I _mean_ it! Or else I'll show up at your place with some beer, and let your brothers drink all they want!" He laughed at Toris' disapproving frown as the brunette walked away.

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Eduard and Raivis came home to the smell of cooking food. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, Raivis smiled. "Žemaičių blynai?" He asked, setting his bag down as he surveyed the meat filled potato pancakes. Toris nodded,

"I was feeling… Homesick." He explained. Eduard set his bag down on the couch, walking back over to lift up the open bag of salt snacks.

"Feliks is back in town." He stated, adjusting his glasses. Only he would give 'gifts' like that…

"Got in today, I guess. I didn't get much time to talk to him, so I didn't get to ask how mother was… Zofia is good though." His face colored a bit and Eduard only smiled.

"A husband that cheated on her and a kid like Feliks, I'd think you looked pretty manly too." He teased as he took a seat at the table, setting down his notebooks. Raivis frowned,

"It's not like Toris _isn't _manly…" He defended.

"Hey guys, I'm right _here._" The oldest frowned.

"Yes, and cooking. In an apron." Eduard snapped his pen on, grinning as he opened his notebook and began to write. Toris flushed, glancing down to his tan apron with the word '_Skanus' _stitched into it. Raivis laughed, and Toris couldn't keep his displeased expression. Things had been tense lately, before he'd known about his internship. His loans could no longer cover the cost of living, and he refused to let either of his brothers quit school to get a job. If he hadn't gotten this job, they would be out on the streets. Or worse, shipped home… Shaking his head, he served the food onto three plates. "Food's ready! You can do homework _after _dinner, Eduard."

It felt so _good _to be home again. He _knew _his brothers. Knew their personalities, their likes and dislikes, and how to handle any problems that came up. It was _safe _here. Back in Lithuania they had never had this level of security. It was day to day, touch and go for so long that Toris had thought for a long time that maybe that was all there would be to life. Raivis was so shy and withdrawn from everything, and Eduard had become quite cynical. It was only around Toris and Raivis that he could be himself, and give an honest smile or a harmless jest. And only with each other could Raivis talk animatedly about his day, or whatever novel he had picked up lately.

It was 10 at night before Raivis fell asleep on the couch, and Eduard was close to doing so himself. Shutting off the TV, Toris ushered both of them off to bed. A moment to himself was good as well. While the two brothers shared a room, Toris had the master bedroom. It was all they could afford, but it wasn't like it was cramped. They hadn't come to the UK with many possessions, and they didn't have many now. Shedding his clothes for the second time that day, he had just pulled on a clean pair of boxers when his cell phone rang. Sighing when he saw the name on the ID, he laid back onto his bed as he answered it.

"Hey Feliks."

"I thought you were gonna call me, Totes!" Feliks' much too awake and pouty voice came over the speaker. Toris winced at that nickname. It wasn't so bad in Lithuanian or Polish, but it reminded him too much of the popular shortcut of the Pole's favorite English word 'totally'.

"Sorry, I lost track of time. I've worked the last two nights, so I wanted to spend some time with my brothers. Tomorrow night I work overnight again…" The brunette pulled the tie from his hair, running his fingers through the thick and wavy tresses.

"What the heck, I thought this job was a _good _thing? Sounds more like they're totally trying to kill you!" The Pole complained. Toris laughed,

"I can't argue with that… But, it _is _a good thing. Its money, and school credit. Besides, I… I think a challenge is good for me."

"You have to be kidding. Haven't you had enough?" Feliks' voice was strained.

"What about _you_?" Toris frowned up at the ceiling. "You haven't exactly had it easy."

"My dad was an asshole Totes, but he wasn't—."

"Did you talk to my mom?" The brunette cut in, closing his eyes. Feliks paused for a moment, unsure if he wanted to give up that easily. After a long sigh, he spoke up in a quieter voice.

"…Yeah. I visited her. I gave her a picture and she wouldn't look at it though." He sighed. "She's doing good from the looks of it."

"…Good." A brief silence followed while Toris seemed to be trying to get a hold of himself, and Feliks tried to think of something more to say. Finally the moment was broken by Toris' voice, "You wanted to know about my internship?"

"Totally!" Feliks jumped at the chance to get on a better topic. For the third time that day Toris recounted the events of the past two days, only that his best friend definitely had the loudest protests whenever he felt things went badly for the brunette. It felt good to have someone so strongly on his side, even if not all of the protests were exactly reasonable. What mattered was that at the end of the two-hour conversation, the Lithuanian was feeling like himself again. Grounded, connected, and confident. He had his support outside of the institution, and that would be enough to get him through the initial process. He would find his feet soon enough, he always did. That night, Toris slept the deepest that he had in months.

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Toris smacked his hand over his buzzing phone, shutting off the alarm without ever opening his eyes. His brothers hadn't woken him at all when they left for school, so they must have been quiet. With a yawn he sat up, running fingers through his mussed hair. Already 11, so he had about an hour to get ready if he didn't want to be late to work. Another overnight. It was going to be the death of him, he swore as he dressed in his scrubs. He'd had time to wash both pairs yesterday between class and everything else, and over all he _was _feeling very refreshed. One thing he couldn't shake was the thought that his life had somehow split into two. There were things that happened at work that he wasn't permitted to talk about of course, but that wasn't it at all. It was the things he didn't _want _to talk about that he worried about.

The bus ride to work was tiring as ever. Amidst the stares and sniggering, he even got a few questions as to what hospital he was a nurse for. Answering that he was an _orderly _and not a _nurse _only made them think he worked at an old folk's home. Most of them didn't recognize the name of the institution, so saying it made no difference. Two hours of this embarrassing routine, and it was worse in the afternoon than it was at night. He didn't have time to think on the way there because of that, and he was always so tired on the way home that it was difficult to think clearly.

The older lady was back in the main hallway, and she didn't do so much as glance at the badge he flashed before she buzzed him through. How careless amidst all this tight security, Toris thought to himself. There was no way that she could know his face by now, and if anyone could just flash a badge then how could you tell if someone should be here or not? Thankfully there were no big surprises to greet him today as he turned the corner to the common room. Alfred was absent as medication was being handed out, though he could hear a voice shouting from the room hallway now and then, warning about poison of some sort. Keeping him separated for medication time seemed like a good idea to the Lithuanian, considering his views about it.

The brunette made his way to the safe room, where he was met with a rather confusing expression on Sarah. Toris stopped to question, but she waved him on, following him instead. Once they were in the break room the brunette set his bag down, swallowing. "W-what is it, Sarah?"

"Ivan…" She began, her voice strained. The orderly felt his stomach tighten instantly. "Yesterday, they took a small group outside… He didn't want to come back in. He caused a fight, riled up the other patients. They barely got him back inside without having to drug him." She sighed, and Toris felt that uneasiness building. That couldn't be it, right? "That evening they wanted the group who had gone outside to bathe, but he refused. Normally we have group showers, but he always refuses those. For the difficult patients, we let them bathe in a tub while being supervised… Well, he refused that too. He'll fight to the death if someone see's him without clothing… Normally, he accepts only Dr. Wong to be in the room…" She frowned in worry. "He carried on into the late evening, and then he didn't even want to sleep. He was shouting when I left, and I heard from Jeff they had to drug him and isolate him to get him to sleep. That is, strap him down and give him a needle."

"I don't understand," Toris shook his head, "He seemed to be doing so well… and when he got pills at night he was all right! Did… did they even try?" He seemed defensive. Sarah nodded.

"They tried everything. Isolation is a last resort for overnight. I'm sorry, Toris…" She sighed. Toris felt a bit of heat gather on his face.

"W-why are you apologizing to _me_?" He asked.

"Well, you seemed kind of close with him so far… I mean, I've never seen him behave that well for someone other than Dr. Wong, and he just met you! Not that I can blame him, but…" The door opened suddenly, and Brad frowned at them both.

"Sarah, there's still medicine to be handed out. And Toris, you're needed in room 136 down the extracurricular hall." He jerked his thumb behind him, only waiting for the both of them to nod before he was gone again. Toris sighed,

"Thank you Sarah… I just wish I knew what happened in the twenty-four hours I was gone." And right when he thought today would be a _normal _day. As normal as a job in a mental institution could be, anyway. Sarah offered a sad smile, touching his shoulder.

"Sometimes there's just no helping some people." She said with an almost weary tone. It was then that Toris seemed to notice something about his coworker. She wasn't in this profession like some of the others were, for the money or the easy ride through med or psych school. She wanted to help, like he did. Only that she had given up somewhere along the way. He frowned to think that she gave up like that; the very thought of it him sad. If everyone just gave up here, then what hope _was _there for the patients? Stuffing his things into his locker, Toris made his way out of the break room and down the hall. Leaving the safe room he turned right, crossing to the hall there and heading down.

Room 136 looked to be uninhabited at first glance, several tables and chairs all sitting empty in front of him. He was just about to turn around when he heard a chuckle. Glancing towards the back of the room he saw two people there, and one of them looked quite displeased. Ivan sat smiling in one of the chairs, a light flush on his pale cheeks that he covered with his scarf soon enough. Yao had been sitting on a table, but he hopped off as soon as he saw the Lithuanian, frowning as he headed over to him. "About time." He muttered. "I have waited, you know."

"I-I'm sorry, I was on time to work though…"

"Details! Do you know what he has done?" Yao gestured to the Russian. Toris nodded,

"I heard some of it." Toris said. The Chinese man threw up his hands.

"Looks happy now, no? He said he wait for you. No matter what he wait." Yao's dark eyes were narrow as if in suspicion, but Toris shook his head.

"I don't understand… Ah!" The brunette gave a small sound as a large white towel was shoved into his arms. The psychologist pointed back to the Russian with one finger,

"You watch him! He doesn't want me today." He crossed his arms. "Baths are down at end of hall, to the right." Yao shot a glance back to Ivan. "You behave yourself. Otherwise you not have your way next time!" Another look to Toris and the dark-haired man looked almost sorry. "He is sedated, but you be careful." That said, he left the room without further explanation. Toris stared down at the towel in his arms before glancing to the Russian slowly, swallowing.

"S-so…You need a bath, right?" He tried to smile. The Lithuanian had done well so far at getting the blond to do things for him that he wouldn't do for others, so maybe he would get lucky… again. Ivan rose up from his chair, holding a clean pair of his sunflower patched scrubs in his arms. Ivan's current clothing was obviously dirty, and there were smears of dirt here and there on his skin as well. He stepped towards the brunette, pushing the clothes into Toris' arms when he was close enough. Letting go of his scarf, he allowed it to reveal his smile, and the orderly was a little surprised for a moment. That smile, it reached the violet eyes that looked down at him expectantly. After a day as bad as yesterday sounded—and spending the night in isolation, Siberia as Ivan called it, Toris had been afraid that he would be depressed!

"Are we not going?" Ivan asked suddenly, grinning. "I think that Brad will be very unhappy if I go another day without bathing… I got quite dirty when I was outside you know." He said thoughtfully, holding up his hand to inspect the dirt under his nails.

"Oh yes, of course we are! I was just… after yesterday…" Toris frowned, face reddening. He didn't know how to tell a man at least a head taller than him and about a hundred pounds heavier that he was _worried _about him…

"Are you concerned for me? How cute!" The blond's hand came down heavily into the smaller man's shoulder, patting it. "I already told you _moy drug; _they do what they want."

"But why did you…"

"The bath is this way~!" Ivan sang, turning on his heel to head for the door. Toris quickly followed, frowning even more now. At least the blond was going in the direction that Yao had indicated, so he felt safe to follow him at least. When they reached the door, Toris had to swipe his key-card to get inside. The bathing room was large and rectangular, shower heads lining the left side of it. The floors were decorated in old small square tiles, with small round drains in the middle of the room. They were a faded white, just like the larger tiles on the walls. The right side of the room was where the bath tubs were, opposite the shower heads. Up out of reach were the windows, made of frosted square blocks of glass. The light that they let in was enough to light the room for now, though there were other lights along the ceiling as well.

"A-alright." Toris said, swallowing a little. Moving over to the claw-footed bathtub, he turned the water on warm. "You can start under—" He paused as he turned around to see the Russian without his shirt, which had been tossed carelessly to the floor. Green eyes moved across that pale skin before he even realized what he was doing. The Russian's body was strong, and it was obvious the strength he held just by looking at him. Perhaps he was a little…. _soft _about the middle, but it didn't take away from his overall appeal at all. Probably even the side effect of medication. His gaze stopped on the blond's shoulder, where there appeared to be a burn scar. The only other marks that he could make out from where he was were fresh ones, from struggling at restraints. Ivan caught him looking, giving a smile,

"Toris wants to watch?" He asked as he set his hands onto his pants.

"Ah…! Sorry!" Tearing his gaze away, the orderly's face was a crimson red which reached all the way to his ears, he could feel it! Ivan only chuckled, and soon enough those bare feet were padding over to the tub. Toris closed his eyes and waited until he heard the slosh of water to set the towel down on the table near the tub and walk away, opening them again with his back turned and his heart racing. He fiddled with the clean clothing in his hands as he listened to Ivan begin to bathe.

Water sloshed around as Ivan hummed to himself, the table moving slightly as he picked up the soap to rub across his dirty skin. Glancing over his shoulder, Toris frowned slightly when his eyes fell on those fresh marks again. The Russian's wrists were red and even bloody in at least two places, and the shoulder without the burn scar was bruised. That said, so was his fist… He hoped that no one's jaw had come close to being broken at least. A scrape on the blond's cheek was revealed when Ivan washed his face, and he thought he saw a glimpse of something else at his temples, but he was too far to see them clearly.

There were a few cuts on his forearms, and though he hated to say it, they seemed to be self inflicted. But they were old marks, healed but not quite scarred yet. That Ivan was so pale was a surprise to Toris, for all he'd seen of the Russian was usually him sitting in front of windows. Not that the UK was the best place to get a tan…

"Are you going to stare the whole time?" The accented voice drew Toris out of his thoughts, looking up in shock. Jaw fell slack, eyes widening as he felt his cheeks heat up again, eyes turning away as he turned his back.

"I-I wasn't staring!" He shot back, indignant. Guilty. He didn't want the Russian to see how flustered that he really was. But the water swished, loud in the otherwise empty room.

"What if I killed myself while you looked away?" Ivan's voice drawled, barely containing his laughter. Toris spun around at once.

"W-what?" He asked, alarmed. Would he try? Could he stop him if he did? He'd been told that the blond would get violent if anyone other than Dr. Wong entered the showers while he was in there, so help would only make things worse... Ivan only gave a slightly condescending smile as he poured water over his head with a plastic cup.

"How irresponsible..." He chided as he dropped the cup back into the water with a plop, running his fingers through his ash-blond hair. Toris blushed as he remained half-turned towards the tub. He still watched him, but his eyes would shift away whenever Ivan looked back.

"W-what's gotten into you..." The Lithuanian complained, hugging the clothing to his chest by now. His heart was racing, but he didn't want the Russian to know. Ivan perked up as he crossed his arms on the side of the bath, leaning out a little.

"Yao gave me a treat!" He chirped with a wide grin. Toris frowned,

"What kind of treat?"

"Never mind that. I'm just happy…" Ivan rose from the tub and Toris looked away quickly, eyes on the wall that he was close to. He studied the tiles as if they were infinitely interesting…

"Why are you happy?" He asked, confused again. If he'd had a day like Ivan had yesterday, he'd be a mess. But the Russian wrapped the towel around his waist, approaching the brunette with a smile.

"I was worried you'd be straight!" He announced happily. Toris' jaw fell open for the second time that day, quite unsure of how to respond to that comment. The immediate 'I am!' came to the tip of his tongue, but then that wasn't completely true. Before he could gather the wits to answer, Ivan continued. "But, you were staring." He chuckled. "What more would I need?" His breath brushed the back of Toris' hair, and the Lithuanian turned to face the suddenly close patient. Swallowing hard, he pressed his back into the wall.

"Wh-what are you saying? I-I-I was worried… th-the marks…!" He protested, and "Ah!" as his chin was taken into Ivan's hands. The Russian's fingertips were slightly calloused, tracing his jaw line tenderly.

"_Shto? Ya ne govoryu po-angliski._"

"_I-I-Ivan, don't_…" Toris' heart was in his throat, his stomach tied in the tightest knots possible. Eyes fell half-lidded as the Russian leaned in, so close that he could feel Ivan's breath on his lips. It had no scent, strangely, just warm and fresh… Lips brushed and Toris gave a sigh, something he felt with his whole heart. This closeness… But it wasn't right! A moment passed just like that, and before he knew it Ivan had pulled back.

"Ah." Ivan was looking down, blinking curiously. Looking back up and to the side, he frowned. "_Sooka Kitaets_. He knows!" Stepping back, the blond lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Ah, it can't be helped. Perhaps next time…" He went to drying himself off with his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Meanwhile Toris' heart was hammering in his chest, his breath a little short.

What… What had just happened? Ivan, had he really just tried to _kiss _him? No, he was just messing with him. Surely he hadn't meant anything by it. Toris barely knew him, Yao told him to be careful. The Russian seemed to like games, so this had to be one of them right? After all, he hadn't _really _done it! Ivan was probably straight, and he was just seeing if Toris reacted so that he could tease him for being 'gay'. But then again he didn't seem the type for that…

"Toris?" Ivan's voice distracted him again. Turning to face him, the blond couldn't help but chuckle at the orderly's red face. "Could I have my clothes?" He held his hands out.

"O-oh! Yes!" Toris handed them over, not realizing that he had been clutching them to his chest. Ivan brought them up to his face, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he closed his eyes. He opened them with a small smile.

"They smell like you." He said quietly. Toris turned his face away as the patient dressed, hands fidgeting in front of him. Ivan picked up his scarf from the floor, winding it around his neck. "Ready!" He said, smile never leaving. Toris couldn't meet his eyes as he slid his card through the slot, opening the door. Neither of them spoke a word as they walked down the long hallway, and once they reached the common room Ivan passed him with a smile, though his footing seemed a little uneasy.

"Look at that goddamn idiot, grinning like he's all proud of himself." Jeff spoke up from beside the younger orderly, startling him. Toris almost answered that he probably was, judging by the bruise on the Irishman's face. He gave a small shrug instead,

"Have you seen Dr. Wong?" He asked. Jeff frowned, but jerked his thumb towards a door.

"Up the stairs. Room 24." He said shortly. "Don't take long, Brad wants you to supervise laundry today."

"Right, thank you, I won't." Toris promised, heading for the door. Sliding his card, he headed up the white stairs in front of him. The next level where was where they kept the patients who were more dangerous, right? They needed more medication, and they couldn't mingle with each other… Finding the room he knocked, waiting for an answer before he stepped inside.

Yao sat behind his desk, a dark-wood and heavy looking object. It was intricately carved just like everything else in the office, from the bookshelves to the chair. Oriental figures and characters were everywhere, from the pictures to the shelves. Overall it was… not exactly what he had been expecting. Something less ethnic maybe, more… sparse and modern. But what here was ever as he expected it to be? "Everything went ok?" Yao asked with a slight frown.

"O-oh, yes but… I mean no!" Toris shook his head.

"_Aiiiyaah, _I knew it!" The doctor slammed his pen down onto the table. "He needed more."

"M-more… He said you gave him a treat?" Toris inquired, raising one eyebrow. Yao nodded,

"Vodka."

"_What?_" Toris gasped.

"Vodka, boy. Can't you hear? He can't take more sedative right now. Vodka with the medicine makes it impossible though, no worry." Dr. Wong waved his hand, picking up his pen again. Toris felt frozen, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"M…Makes _what _exactly impossible?" He asked. Yao looked up, raising one eyebrow at that red face. Toris swallowed. "I-I see… For… How long?"

"Ivan is big boy. Maybe eight, maybe twelve hours. You be careful." The Chinese doctor sighed, as if to say _I've told you this before. _Toris nodded, chewing his lower lip. Yao knew… He knew that Ivan would try. That meant that he had tried before? With how many? Toris swallowed, opening his mouth to ask, but Yao didn't give him the chance. "I am very busy, Toris. Go, do your job, I do mine." He waved his hand. Toris felt his heart sink, frowning as he gave a nod, the lump in his throat keeping him from speaking.

Once he was outside of Yao's office, he leaned back against it. _Get a hold of yourself, Toris. This changes nothing! _He thought desperately. _Dr. Wong is right, I need to just do my job. What did I expect to hear from him anyway? This is a place for the insane. Not for … No, I won't even say it. Ivan played a joke on me, that's all! Get over it. _He took a few deep breaths.

_Okay. I'm ready to get on with the day._

At least, he thought so.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N

Some clarification in my notes. Follow the link at the bottom of chapter 4 for details.

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The Lithuanian buried his face into his pillows, wrapping his arms around it tightly. He wanted to shout into it, to cry, to laugh at himself. Oh how he wished he could laugh at this situation. He could tell someone, anyone about it and they would both give a hearty laugh and move on. Sadly that was not the case here. It was that look that had gotten to him. That broken, lost, and accepting look.

_God damn Ivan Braginski… _If it wasn't for him this whole week would have been so much less stressful! A sharp pang ran through his stomach, and Toris curled up tighter to fend it off. _No, no, no, that's not right. _He corrected himself. _It has to be me, I had to have done something, said something, led him on… _Why else would he have tried that… _twice_? Last night's overnight had been above the brunette threshold of tolerance for untoward behavior. Enough to spark Toris' self-defensive behavior, and a quick and unresolved exit… Now, he might never know. What if Ivan spurned him now? Treated him like the others, fighting and distrusting him? For some reason that thought made his stomach ache even more. _Oh, _he wasn't going to sleep very well… And he had work again in a few hours, though blessedly, not overnight…

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Last Night's Overnight

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Tonight's overnight co-worker was a man named Heracles. His hair was dark and unkempt, his eyes a little tired. When he spoke it was at length, and he often went off on tangents and lost his original point. If Toris didn't keep track, their conversation would lose all direction. Mostly though he just read his book; a thick book of old mythology from around the world. He was a History major working nights at the facility to pay his way for schooling, so he too earned more than the Lithuanian. Everything was going pleasantly until around one in the morning. That was when the shouting started. Heracles ignored it completely, nose in his book, and he only looked up when Toris spoke up.

"I'll get that." He said confidently, heading for the medication.

"… … … …Thanks." Heracles said, glancing back down to his book and turning a page. "I would have… gotten it… after this page though."

"Don't worry about it." Toris smiled, setting the pills into a paper cup and filling another cup with water. He headed off after waiting for the other orderly to finish his page so that he could buzz him through the door, heading down the hall. "Alright, alright!" He called as he approached Ivan's door. "I've got it, I'm coming so everyone just calm down!" Sliding his card through the slot, the door clicked as it unlocked. Pulling it open he stepped inside, a little startled to find Ivan standing in the middle of the room. His ears were still ringing from his shouting, but that had abruptly stopped as soon as he had opened the door as well. It clicked closed behind him. He swallowed slightly, throat feeling tight with anxiety. "H-here, Ivan." He held out the two cups. Ivan smiled; he could barely see it in the dim light of the room. The only light came from the small barred window, after all.

"You're so naïve, _moy drug._" The Russian said softly. The brunette frowned; he disliked being taunted.

"You don't want them? Then I'll take them back." He brought them back close to his body. Ivan stepped forward, hand out.

"I want it." He said seriously. Toris nodded,

"I thought as much. Here… ah, Ivan…?" He questioned as the Russian stepped towards him, gently pressing the orderly's arms to the side so that he could fit between them.

"Hold me, Toris?" Ivan's arms were around the smaller man's waist. Toris' face flushed red and he stammered a response.

"H-hey, wh-what are you doing? Take the pills and…!"

"Do you dislike me?" Ivan asked, leaning down so that his nose was buried into the brunette's slender neck again. Toris frowned.

"Of course I don't."

"Don't lie." Ivan's voice lowered for a split second. "Say it like you mean it." Toris gave a slight huff,

"I don't dislike you Ivan. I like you." As if a signal had been given, he felt that large body shift to press him against the wall. His hand was wet with water from the cup being jolted, though he automatically tried not to spill it. Ivan's left arm slid out from behind him, his hand holding his hip instead, while his right moved up. Hand tilting Toris' chin upwards, he only met those eyes for an instant before the blond closed the distance between them.

Lips were warm, wet and slightly chapped. They were nothing like a girl's, though it wasn't as if Toris was an expert in this department. But Ivan's kiss was forceful, passionate. He took control in an instant and he held it, like a man would kiss a woman after a whole night of holding back. Toris took a sharp breath in through his nose as his eyes widened, lips sealed up tightly in that kiss. He felt a slick tongue along the crease of his lips, and they opened up all on their own. "_Mmh_!" Emerald eyes fell half-lidded then, hand crushing the cup of water as that tongue penetrated his mouth.

Ivan moved it teasingly at first, back and forth with feather light touches to the roof of Toris' mouth. It tickled, and Toris gave a small whine of complaint as he dropped the ruined cup of water to place that hand on Ivan's shoulder, gripping his night shirt. His own tongue flickered out in response, meeting the Russian's to push back against it. _What the hell am I doing_? _Dear God, am I really this lonely_?_ Am I really this pathetic_? "_Nnh_!" Both hands were on Ivan's shoulders now, pushing him back strongly. The taller man stumbled back a few steps without resistance, though he was blinking as if surprised. Toris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, catching a string of saliva left behind from their kiss. "You idiot, what are you thinking!" Toris demanded, panting heavily. Ivan frowned as if he didn't understand. "You can't… we can't do that! You're a patient here Ivan, and I'm an orderly!" Now the Russian smiled,

"Is that... what you're hung up on?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "_Ura, _I'm relieved!" Toris stared in shock, trembling slightly as his hands curled into fists, crushing the cup with the pills. Ivan shook his head, "Toris didn't say 'we're both men'!" He explained.

"Th-that's a given…!" Toris protested, but Ivan only continued to smile. "Ivan, you don't kiss your friends! You kiss people that you love!" He tried. But Ivan's voice was confident.

"_Ya tebya—_" The blond didn't even wince as Toris' hand slammed into his chest, reaching up to catch the crushed cup with pills before it fell. The orderly was already opening the door, leaving the Russian with a somewhat sad smile on his face.

"Idiot…!" Toris cursed as he closed the door, hands shaking.

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Presently, Friday

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The alarm sounded, startling Toris awake. Sitting up quickly, he nearly tossed his cell across the room. Breathing a little quickly, he turned it off calmly instead. Noon. Thankfully he had learned from Heracles about the subway system, or 'the Tube' as Londoners called it, before the whole incident with Ivan had taken place. He'd been too embarrassed afterwards to say anything at all, but Heracles didn't even seem to notice. He'd held the dark-haired orderly's attention long enough to find out which one ran from the stop near his house to the hospital. 35mins instead of two hours! It wouldn't work on the way home in the evenings, but it was better than nothing.

He'd never had a reason to use it before because his school and the stores were all near enough for short bus rides or within walking distance. Still he didn't want to press his luck, as he'd heard about overcrowding in the cars from other people. Slipping off his scrubs, he tossed them into the hamper and headed for the shower. It was about mid-shampoo that he heard his cell phone ring, just his luck. Rinsing off his hair quickly, it stopped ringing just as he stepped out. "Damn!" He cursed, wrapping a towel around his body and dried off his hands, checking the caller ID. Feliks. Toris sighed, setting his phone back down. He really didn't feel like…

_Knock, knock_! The sound came from the front door. "Ah, just a moment!" He called, scrambling to dry off and get dressed, but he heard the handle jiggling already. "I said just a moment!" Toris called louder, slipping on the clean shirt of his second pair of scrubs. Thankfully Eduard had done laundry. Just as he stepped into the living room the door opened, and he was met with Feliks' frowning face.

"Like, the heck Totes, I called like three times!" He said as he walked inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. He carried a plastic bag with his arm, his clothes today just as flashy and 'stylish' as ever. A black tank top under a short-sleeved see-through shirt which hung off of one shoulder and jeans with rips on the upper thighs. Bangles jingled on his wrist as he lifted his hand to brush his bangs out of his face, smiling as he beheld Toris' wet hair. "_Oohh, _was someone in the shower?"

"I-I was, and you only called _once. _I have work in an hour and a half, you know." The Lithuanian sighed, pulling his shirt away from his still slightly damp chest. Great, he'd gotten dressed in a hurry for nothing.

"Perfect! Just enough time for lunch!" Feliks held out the plastic bag. "I knew you worked today so I brought you something to eat because I knew you wouldn't have time!" Toris blinked before he smiled a little, actually grateful.

"Thank you Feliks… Really." He said with feeling. Feliks' pale cheeks colored a little and he waved his free hand, bangles jingling like bells again.

"Oh hush, get us some plates and forks." He said quickly. The two of them sat together on the couch a few moments later, eating chicken curry. Feliks ate leisurely, but Toris seemed to chew each bite with thought, and it didn't take long for the Pole to speak up. "Something you wanna talk about, Totes?" Toris' eyes rose and he frowned slightly.

"Oh, it's nothing really…" There was no way he could tell Feliks... right?

"What!" Feliks pointed his fork. "You're so not gonna cop out on me now! You're sitting there like a sick pony munching on hay! I know you love curry! Something wrong with it today?"

"I-it's good Feliks, I just…Something at work. I shouldn't talk about…" But then again, Feliks was his child-hood friend. If anyone could laugh at such a bizarre thing happening to him it would be the Pole.

"Uh-uh, no excuses." The blond poked Toris' hand with the fork.

"O-ow!" The Lithuanian drew his hand back, smiling slightly. "Alright already… but it's nothing."

"So spill." Feliks looked excited, like a high school girl about to be told gossip. Toris sighed, setting his fork down onto his plate with a click.

"So at work last night, this patient kind of…" His face was heating up against his will.

"Kind of…?" Feliks prompted. Toris glanced away.

"…Kissed me." He nearly whispered. His friend burst out laughing, setting his own fork down to cover his mouth. The brunette looked up hopefully, smiling a little awkwardly himself.

"Oh Toris, you dog! I didn't think you were the type to go for crazy women!"

"Wha—Hey, what does that mean?" Toris demanded with a frown. "And it wasn't a woman, it was a man!" Suddenly Feliks stopped laughing, blinking.

"…Come again?" He asked, lifting one blond eyebrow.

"It… it was a man." Toris said in a stronger voice, lifting his fork and stuffing another bite into his mouth as if he could avoid talking that way. Feliks frowned more though, staying quiet while Toris chewed. Just as he swallowed, the Pole spoke again.

"What was he… like?" The brunette nearly choked at the question.

"What… What was he _like_?"

"Yeah, was he ugly? A bad kisser?" Feliks smiled. "A pretty boy or some kind of giant bear?" Toris was shaking his head,

"No, no, and no. He wasn't any of those things. Actually, I think he's kind of … attractive." Toris admitted with a guilty blush. But he could admit it to Feliks, not to anyone else. "And he was a really… _really _good kisser." He took another bite of curry. After a small pause, he glanced up to Feliks' face. His friend was still frowning slightly, as if there was something he had missed. Swallowing, he frowned as well. "What's wrong?"

"Toris is… a fag?" Feliks seemed to wonder to himself.

"Don't say it like that!"

"But you're gay?"

"_I don't know_!" The answer came out much louder than he had intended, the both of them looking surprised afterwards. "A-ah… I'm sorry—"

"I don't believe it…" Feliks set down his plate on the coffee table. "Toris didn't say 'Of course not, I like women!'." The blond continued.

"I _do _like women! I-it's just—."

"So you're bisexual?" Feliks raised an eyebrow.

"I don't _know_!" Toris set his own plate in his lap, throwing up his hands. They were quiet for a long moment. Feliks continued to frown ever so slightly as if this was a concept that he simply couldn't grasp, and Toris chewed his lower lip at the awkward silence. He'd thought that of all people, Feliks could understand his dilemma… Finally Feliks smiled.

"I guess it doesn't matter."

"Wh-what?" Toris snapped out of his silence. Feliks shrugged, throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

"Because I'll always be Toris' first kiss." He said with confidence. No, maybe even arrogance. Toris' face turned red,

"How many times do I have to tell you that doesn't count! We were nine!" He argued. Feliks laughed, and it was so much better to hear than the previous silence.

"Oh come on! Lips touched it counts! I just wanted you to stop crying." He added in, making it nearly impossible for Toris to respond. The brunette bit his lower lip, glancing down to the plate in his lap and stirring at his food. "Your dad was being an ass again, and he'd beat on your mom—"

"I remember!" Toris interjected. A small pause again, and Toris checked the time. 1:15, he had to leave soon…

"Okay, okay I get it. Sorry for bringing him up." Feliks smiled, standing up. "Anyway I know I don't have to worry. My best friend isn't _stupid _enough to get involved with a _patient_! Not after how hard you've worked at getting this internship!" He laughed, and Toris winced. _Ouch… _His stomach just got another pang of pain.

"Y-yeah…" He smiled weakly, shoveling his food back into the Styrofoam container. He'd leave the left over's for his brothers. Standing up, Feliks hugged him tightly, kissing him on the cheek.

"So glad I came to see you, Totes. I missed you, you know. Call me tonight? No matter when it is?" The blond pressed.

"S-sure…"

"Great! See you then, _ciao_!" He headed over to the door, leaving without looking back. Somehow Toris felt even worse than before… As if it was _he _who had missed something there…

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It was with a sense of unease that Toris stepped inside of the institution again. He was relieved to be away from the strange turn of events that his conversation with Feliks had taken him, and the questions that it had left him with. But on the other hand being here was like facing those questions head-on instead of just knowing they were there. But as it was he was almost late; the train had been delayed a while. Now he knew better about what time he needed to do everything he was sure he'd get it next time! He was buzzed into the male wing, feet nearly dragging as he headed down the hall.

There was a new face to greet him as he turned the corner today. He stood a bit taller than Toris, dressed in a doctor's white coat. His hair was a mess of blond, eyes green, and his… his _eyebrows… _Well, they were something to behold. Not to mention, they looked rather _angry. _That sinking feeling that you get in the morning, when you just _know _something bad is going to happen so you wish you didn't have to get up at all, that was how Toris felt right about now. When he was close enough the man held out his hand. "Arthur Kirkland. Mr. Lorinaitis I presume." It was a statement, and his handshake was strong when Toris accepted it.

"T-Toris…" The Lithuanian nodded. Eyes widened a little, "Kirkland as in…"

"As in the Kirkland Institution for the Mentally Ill, yes. This institution has been passed down through my family for six generations now."

"N-nice to meet you, sir! I'm sorry I'm late, the train was delayed and…!" He stopped as Arthur waved his hand.

"Don't worry about something so little as that. You're here, that's what matters. However I wish our first meeting could be under better circumstances." The doctor put both of his hands inside of his coat pockets.

"I-is something wrong…?" The brunette frowned.

"Last night, you brought the patient Ivan Braginski a couple of sedatives, correct?" Toris' face drained of all color.

"Y…yes." He stammered. "Is he…?"

"Ivan is fine. Right now he's in solitary though, you see, though he'll be out by dinner. But somehow those pills found their way into the hands of another patient, Gilbert Weillschmidt. Gilbert is currently sleeping through his scheduled one-on-one with Dr. Carriedo." Arthur was still frowning.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't… I didn't think…"

"But you've _got _to think on this job, Toris! Something like this could lose us valuable patients, as well as the donations of their families if you understand me. This _cannot _happen again! I understand that you're an intern under a school study here."

"Y-yes sir." Toris noticed a few orderlies and patients around them, watching. He lowered his gaze to the floor, face flushing in shame.

"You're not the only one who's been chastised about this. I've talked to several other members of staff about the proper procedure about giving medication. Look at me when I talk, Toris." The brunette's gaze snapped back up. "When you give a patient a pill, make sure they swallow it. They love to hide them. Usually under the tongue, but they've gotten smarter than that. You have to squeeze their cheeks," He reached out, lightly pressing on Toris' cheeks from either side, like you might do to make a child spit something out. "They hide them there too."

"_Y-yush shure_." His cheeks were released. He felt like a child, scolded in front of an entire classroom. It was then that a voice from behind the blond doctor shouted loudly,

"_Whoohooo, daddy's home_!" Alfred broke away from the orderly, Michael, who had been trying to hurry him past. Arthur's face changed immediately, and Toris realized that what he thought was anger before had been nothing but a mild irritation at best.

"Alfred, if you jump—!" He turned around as he shouted, but the taller patient was already close enough to jump up. The doctor scrambled to catch the larger body, nearly dropping Alfred in the process. Realizing he had just caught him at all, he quickly dropped him. Like a cat, Al was on his feet before he hit the ground. Arms still around Arthur's neck, he hugged him tightly.

"I missed you daddy!"

"_Stop_ calling me that, you bloody _yob_!" Arthur raged. "Who let him come out here?" Toris swallowed, curious but not enough to stand and watch this fiasco unfold. He tried to sneak away slowly, but he was caught.

"Ah, why were you scolding Toris? It's that damn Commie's fault! I saw him giving the pills to Gilbert this morning. Toris is new, so cut him some slack!" Alfred smiled his hero's smile. Arthur frowned, but his voice had quieted down a great deal.

"Like I'm going to listen to _you, _prat. You have a class right now don't you? Go on!" He tried to push at Al's chest. Alfred only continued to smile, drawing close to the Brit's face with his own.

"If I don't, will you spank me daddy?" Patients laughed behind them, and Arthur's face was red with rage… or, at least it looked that way. Toris blushed as well, turning his back to them. _Thwack_! He turned back around in shock at that sound. Al was holding his head, hunched over with his eyes watering.

"G-get out of here!" Arthur scolded, but the American only pouted. "I'll talk to you later today!" At that last comment Al seemed to brighten, standing up straight again.

"Alright but you promised!" He said excitedly. "Bye Toris!" He waved to Toris before running back to Michael, who was trying not to look at Arthur. They went off down the hall but Arthur only breathed a sigh of relief when they were out of sight. Turning back to Toris, he blinked at the orderly's shocked expression.

"…Oh! Oh, no, that's not normal." He held up his hands. "Alfred is my… My _charge._ We're only about seven years apart, but his parents left him and his brother to my father when I was still in college." He sighed dramatically. "His brother Matthew _works_ in the left wing, the female wing. And Alfred…Well, ends up here at least three times a year. Because Alfred is mentally unstable by state law, I've become his guardian ever since my father passed away." Toris breathed a sigh of relief, hand on his chest as he nodded.

"I understand." He said smiling a little.

"Oh, that's right. Your mother is…" Arthur stopped in surprise at the expression he received. He looked genuinely sorry afterwards, resting his hand on Toris' shoulder. "Oh, _do _forgive me. That was terribly insensitive of me. I won't mention it again."

"I-it's alright…" Toris shook his head, forcing a smile. Arthur's look was almost one of pity, but he lifted his hand.

"I won't keep you from your shift any longer. Go on and put your things into your locker."

"Th-thank you… I really am sorry about the pills, Dr. Kirkland. I will try to be more careful in the future." Toris said, averting his eyes.

"It's not a problem; I would expect these things from a new orderly. I think you'll do well here, Toris. Alfred doesn't trust people easily, but I've heard he's taken a liking to you. He might be a pain in my bum half of the time, but I trust his instincts." Arthur smiled now.

"Th-thank you Dr. Kirkland." He smiled back before heading towards the safe room, not even pausing to speak a word to Sarah before he got to the break room. Opening his locker, Toris tossed in his bag, panting slightly as he gripped the door. Closing his eyes, he tried to still his racing heart and keep his hands from trembling. It wasn't the scene with Doctor Kirkland that had gotten to him. It had been troubling yes, a disaster of a first meeting! But the casual slip tongue that Arthur had almost made… It shook him somehow. Alfred was different. Completely different! Toris hadn't meant that he understood like _that… _Opening his eyes again, he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. This was getting bad for his health, and he wasn't even a week in…

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It was just before dinner that Toris caught Dr. Carriedo outside of his office. The Spaniard was surprised to see the orderly, but he smiled quickly. "Toris." He said, and the brunette didn't miss the tenseness to it. Looking worried that he'd actually bothered the doctor, the Lithuanian apologized at once.

"I-I'm sorry, am I bothering you? I'm on break and I just wanted to ask you something…" He chewed his lower lip. "If it's not a good time…"

"Who the hell is it?" A familiar voice spoke up, Lovino pushing past the doctor to come face to face with Toris. "What do you want?" He demanded in irritation, face a bit red.

"Ah-ah Lovi, your appointment is over. You should be glad you got an extra one at all, thanks to Gilbert sleeping through his." Antonio grinned, patting the Italian on the shoulder.

"Don't touch me." Lovino shrugged off the hand, looking a little redder. Dr. Carriedo took his hand off, holding them both up defensively.

"_Sí, sí_. I'll release you now though. Thank you for your appointment!" He beamed, looking quite happy with himself. Lovino closed his eyes, fists clenching, and for a moment Toris feared that he would lash out. But with a few deep breaths the patient seemed to calm, though with his flushed face, and he headed off without a word. Toris frowned a little, pointing after him,

"Um, is it okay for him to go alone?"

"Oh Lovi'll be fine. He knows the way back, and he's never ever tried to run. If Arthur catches me he'll scold me, but I think it's better to trust the patients who have never broken it, don't you think? Here, come on in to my office." He stepped aside, holding his hand out beside him. Toris nodded as he stepped past, glancing around.

"I agree." He said with a smile. Antonio's office really fit his personality somehow. The right wall held a picture of a bull fighter with bright colors all over it, from the fighter's outfit to the flags, and the crowd around him. The desk held a small bull statue, and a few tomato paper weights and figures, as well as a tomato pin cushion that he used for tacks. The left wall had a big painting of a woman and her lover in an embrace, dancing at what looked to be a Spanish festival. More tomato objects peppered the book shelf there with color. Seems he really did have a thing for them…

"So then," Antonio said, taking a seat on the front edge of his desk, facing the orderly. He folded his hands in his lap. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh yes, that is… Dr. Kirkland…" Toris looked down sheepishly. "No, about my mistake… How much trouble am I really in?"

"That's right; I heard that it was Ivan who gave the pills to Gil-Gil." He sighed dramatically. "Boys will be boys, I always say." Hands rose to the back of his head as he stretched. Fingers interlaced and stayed there. "It was harmless this time, but you really should be careful. If it wasn't sedatives, and something like an anti-psychotic…"

"Oh no, I really do understand! I'm not saying I wasn't at fault, or that it wasn't a terrible mistake!" Toris held up his hands in defense. "Dr. Kirkland already went over the importance of making sure our patients take the right pills…" The orderly looked a bit embarrassed.

"I heard about that too. Poor thing, and on your first week!" The Spaniard moved his hands to shrug his shoulders in a 'what can you do?' motion. "Though they do say that fear makes a wonderful impression as a teacher. I wouldn't know; I don't use that method. Nor does Arthur, so don't worry. He was likely worried about losing the Weillschmidt family's generous donations each year."

"I-I see…"

"Your job and your school record are spotless, kid. Don't fret over something like this, it happens. Ivan is a tricky patient, I'm sure you've noticed. Oh, I know!" He slapped his knee. "How about you ask Yao to see his patient file? If you're going to be working closely with Ivan, I really suggest that you see it." Toris' face lit up, and he smiled now.

"Th-that's a great idea!" He said as he stood a bit straighter. "I don't know why I didn't think of that. I suppose I thought that I wouldn't need to. The other orderlies warned me about him, and some of the others patients, but it would be best if I just read the files instead of went off their first-hand accounts… After all, I've already learned that not all of the orderlies can be trusted to be fully honest with me…"

"That's the truth." Antonio sighed, adjusting his collar. Toris frowned a little.

"Is that a bruise on your neck, Antonio?" The younger man asked. Antonio covered his neck with his hand, laughing.

"It's nothing, nothing! Come now, your break should be over soon right? And lunch for our friends is starting, so we should be going." He waved his free hand, hopping off of his desk. Toris followed him to the door, a little curious but satisfied with their conversation. He saw no reason to press the issue. He liked Dr. Carriedo, looked up to him. His methods seemed sturdy, and he liked his habit of calling the patients 'friends'.

"Thank you Antonio… really. Sorry to bother you." Toris said as he stepped out the door, turning to face the Spaniard. The doctor smiled honestly—another thing that Toris liked.

"It's no problem at all Toris. I like you, and I want you to be happy here. You're good for the patients. Even Lovino has nothing bad to say about you… Oh! Except that you're a 'goody two shoes' like me." He laughed. Toris laughed too, feeling completely at ease right now.

"I guess that's not so bad." The orderly shrugged, smiling. "I'll see you later then, Antonio!" He waved as he began to turn around. The doctor waved back, smiling. As soon as the orderly was out of sight, Antonio covered his neck again with a sigh.

"Guess I'm back to using make-up for another week."

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It was dinner time, and all the patients were either already in the lunch room or currently being herded there. Toris did a quick sweep of the room to see if they needed help, but they seemed to have everything under control. Moving to the Safe Room window, he smiled at Sarah. "Anything exciting?"

"Well," She answered with a smile in return, "Michael got reamed by Dr. Kirkland, and then Shaun went to wake up Gilbert and… he got vomited on." She made an expression that was a mixture of amusement and disgust, and Toris had something of the same.

"Was it the medication?"

"That's what they're saying." She said as she leaned over the counter. "Uh-oh, don't look now but your boyfriend's coming."

"Wh-what?" Toris glanced over his shoulder. Golden hair and the gleam of glasses caught the light, just before he was taken up into Alfred's arms.

"Toris!" The patient said happily as he hugged him, squeezing before he set him back on his feet. He seemed rather happy right now…

"A-Alfred." He blushed a little, wondering what Sarah meant by calling him that. Alfred was nice, but…

"I just got to see Arthur! It had been months you know. That villain is a stubborn one, and it takes drastic measures to get his attention!" Al gushed, arms staying around Toris' shoulders. Sarah was smiling wide, as if she was happy with this or something.

"Like getting yourself put in here?" Toris asked with a raised brow, glancing over his shoulder at Alfred. The golden-haired patient merely smiled, ruffling Toris' tied-back hair. "Aah-aah!" The orderly complained, but Alfred laughed his strange laugh. Sarah looked a little alarmed suddenly, but as Toris glanced in the direction she was looking she giggled. Ivan was there, arms about Yao's shoulders much the same that Alfred's was his. He hung on the much shorter man, dragging his feet dramatically as he walked, murmuring something into Yao's ear. His right hand was bandaged from the looks of it, though Toris didn't know why.

The Chinese man looked more than annoyed, head held as high as he could as he continued to trudge forward. Toris felt his face getting hot, but he couldn't figure out why. Sarah spoke up again. "Looks like Yao's boyfriend is a bit of a hassle today." Toris almost looked offended. _Yao's…_ That's right, the dark-haired doctor had known just what Ivan was after when he gave Ivan over to him for a bath. He'd warned him several times about getting close to Ivan, but he hadn't listened. So that meant that Ivan had tried those things with other people before…? With _Yao…_?

Violet eyes shifted over to their direction, and he felt Alfred's arms tighten around his shoulders. Ivan swept his glance over them, cold as ice suddenly, and not playful as it had been a moment ago with Yao. He tilted his head up a little, as if snubbing them, turning to bury his nose into Dr. Wong's neck. "The hell! Commie bastard!" Alfred shouted. For once Toris didn't admonish him, his own heart too confused to think it was wrong to lash out at Ivan for acting like that. The Russian didn't pay them any attention, passing into the hall and out of sight.

"Alfred!" Sarah said instead. "Dr. Kirkland will be angry if you incite the other patients again." Alfred looked surprised.

"Ohh, you're right! Daddy doesn't like it when I do that." He snickered.

"Alfred… Please go to dinner." Toris said quietly. Al looked down, then he smiled.

"That's right! Today's a pizza day!" He cheered, letting go and patting Toris' shoulder. "See ya later!" He called, before racing off. Both he and Sarah had to shout after him to walk, but it was unlikely that he followed that rule.

"Wh…why did you say that?" Toris asked Sarah after Alfred had gone.

"Say what?"

"The… boyfriend thing. Do you think I'm gay?" He asked, quite seriously. Sarah laughed loudly, covering her mouth.

"You look… so serious!" She dissolved into giggles, shaking her head. "No, it's not that at all! Alfred's just a White Prince. He loves the girls around here, and you're one of the only guys he's nice to." The female orderly explained, as if all was that simple. Toris shook his head with a sigh.

"I'd better go catch up with them. I have clean-up duty today. See you, Sarah." They waved to each other as he walked away.

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During dinner, Ivan never once spared the Lithuanian a glance. Toris couldn't figure out whether he was hurt over being rejected, or whether it really didn't matter to the patient. He was manipulative, that was what everyone had said. He'd trick you in an instant if you let him. In order to sleep better, he shouted until he got pills. Lately even that had not been enough, and he'd demanded that Toris stay in his room until he fell asleep. It was personal, especially when the Russian had gotten Toris to talk about his grandmother and his brothers… But was it _he _that was the fool?

Ivan was stuck here, he'd said as much in his own words. Wanting a connection, something real, he couldn't really blame him for that… He'd been in England for a little over two years and he was lonely and homesick. They said Ivan had been in this institution for three years now. He must be so lonely in here… But if this was all a game, and he was playing off of Toris' own loneliness, then it was still unforgiveable.

After dinner, all the patients had settled for the evening. Alfred wanted to watch another movie, so they all sat down, all except for Ivan, and watched a short one. Ivan sat off to the side again, staring out the window. His chair was placed a ways away from it this time however. Toris had noticed that one of the window panes was taped over, near where Ivan usually sat by himself. Just before bed came time for pills, and it was Jeff who came back with a grim face this time, setting the tray of mostly empty pills onto the counter. "Won't take 'em." He said with a frown. "Big shock. Bastard put his hand through a window earlier just because he could." He waved his hand in a circular motion near his head. Toris frowned, stepping up.

"Let me." He said firmly, and Jeff held up his hands.

"Go on then, bear tamer. As long as he takes them I don't care less how he gets them." Jeff muttered. Toris went into the back room, making some tea in a cup and bringing that out to Ivan with his pills. Whether he was teasing Toris or not Ivan was still a patient here. This was a _job, _one that still mattered a great deal to the brunette. He would care for him professionally… that was _all._

"Tea, and your pills Ivan." He said calmly, holding out the cups. Violet eyes shifted over to the brunette, and Ivan's cheeks colored a little over the edge of his scarf. _No way… _Toris thought, _He's surprised_? The Russian didn't even hesitate, murmuring a soft,

"_Spaciba._" As he took the cups. Lowering his scarf with one hand and tossing back the pills, he swallowed the warm tea in a few gulps. Setting them aside, he glanced back to Toris.

"Ah… Show me under your tongue!" Toris said as firmly as he could. Ivan only chuckled, opening his mouth to show the Lithuanian as he had ordered. Closing his mouth, Ivan only blinked when Toris placed his index finger and thumb on his cheeks as Arthur had done to him earlier. It was the second that he second that he squeezed that something went wrong. Ivan's eyes turned hard, losing all emotion from his expression. Toris only had a split second to react to it, and it wasn't long enough. Crushing pain seized his wrist in the form of a tight grip and swift twist, bringing the young orderly to his knees with a loud cry of pain and shock. "_Aaah, Ivan_!" He cried out sharply, and his wrist was released at once. Standing and stumbling several steps back, Toris cradled his injured wrist as he panted, eyes wide and frightened.

Ivan's owns were just as wide, and seemingly confused. "…Idiot…" He murmured. "Idiot! _Stupid_!" He shifted to Russian as Toris heard the sound of footsteps behind them. "_Stupid, useless, worthless idiot_!" Toris winced at the shouting, watching Jeff and Brad nearly tackle the blond patient. He fought against them, laughing in a high voice that didn't match his body. "_Can't do anything right, can't even touch someone_!" Sarah was behind Toris, hands on his shoulders as Shaun was calling on the phone for Arthur and a doctor to come down.

"What's he going on about?" She asked, voice breathy in her shock.

"I don't… I don't know…" Toris shook his head. He could only catch about half of it, and it didn't make much sense. They drug Ivan backwards towards isolation, but the Russian's eyes stayed on Toris. He continued to shout, more of the same thing, about Siberia, about cold and pain. Toris closed his eyes, surprised to feel hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Oh Toris… Come on, let's get you to the brake room." Sarah cooed over him. She misunderstood, but that was alright. Toris wasn't crying because of the pain. He'd had much worse than this and not even batted an eye. Not that it didn't hurt like hell physically as well, but the emotional damage was even more painful. Shaun patted his shoulder firmly as he passed, giving a wry smile,

"Finally bitten by the bear, eh buddy?" He said, tone much too friendly. If this was the initiation that made him 'one of them', he didn't want it!

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Twenty minutes later and one tightly wrapped wrist, Toris had dried his tears enough to assure Arthur that he was _not _in fact, going to sue. The Brit felt horrible about the incident; after all he had been the one to show Toris how to check in the first place. "I should have also told you that some patients don't like it, and explained the dangers as well. You could have been bitten, gotten an infection from that, and then where would we be. You're actually pretty lucky." He sighed. Toris merely nodded, thanking the dark-haired doctor as he finished wrapping his wrist.

"Thank you Dr. Honda." He said quietly. Glancing up to Arthur, he smiled the best that he could. "Really, I'm alright. I won't sue. I like my place here…"

"We'll pay all of your medical bills. Go tomorrow on your day off and get checked out. I insist." Dr. Kirkland pressed, handing him a folder of contact information. "I just hope it's not broken. That Braginski is a beast of a man." The medical doctor, Kiku Honda, nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else we can get you?"

"Ivan's file."

"…Come again?" Arthur frowned.

"Ivan's file. I want to know more about him… His triggers. Dr. Wong is his primary, right? He should have notes and things in there…" Toris explained. The blond looked pleased,

"Of course. I'll see what I can get for you. Go ahead and wait in the front lobby and I'll run it out to you."

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"Toris!" Feliciano's loud voice greeted him in the lobby, much to the dismay of the old lady at the front desk. He didn't apologize though, just walked quickly over to Toris and carefully lifted his wrist. "Oh no, I heard there was an incident! I was worried, so I made Ludwig wait until you came out!" Toris blinked, touched. He'd known this man for all of two days and he'd been worried enough to make his impatient lover wait. Speaking of that impatient lover… There was a tall man approaching from behind the Italian. His hair was blond, slicked back, and his eyes were the most interesting color of sea-green or blue, he couldn't tell.

"Hello, my name is Ludwig Weillschmidt. Feliciano told me you're new here. Forgive me for not shaking your hand." He indicated Toris' wounded wrist.

"O-oh, of course." Toris bowed his head slightly instead.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but I really do have a meeting early tomorrow Feliciano…" Ludwig frowned. Feli frowned as well.

"You're the one that got here late in the first place! You said you would visit your brother today!" He shot back. Ludwig suddenly seemed very uncomfortable.

"Feliciano… We're going. _Now._" The German stated, turning on his heel. The Italian blinked his brown eyes in confusion, before a look of understanding dawned on him.

"U-uh-oh. That did it." Feli sighed. "I just don't understand… He's his _brother… _Why wouldn't he want to see him?"

"I-it's… That is, I think I can understand." _This one I can. _He thought to himself. _Not like Arthur's situation, but this…_ Feliciano sighed dramatically, hugging Toris carefully.

"_Ciao, _Toris! Hope to see you again soon, be safe and take care of your wrist!" He waved, heading off after his lover.


	7. Chapter 7

"_This is all that Dr. Wong would give me. I hope it will be of use to you._"

* * *

Those were the parting words of Arthur as he handed over the thick file over to Toris. At first the brunette had been shocked at the size, thinking that perhaps they had done more research than he originally thought. But upon first glance he had discovered that a large part of it was merely made up of incident reports. There was an obvious pattern to them as to who he had harmed, but the overwhelming majority seemed to be one person in general: Ivan himself.

He knew he should have asked about his hand… After the Russian had grabbed him Toris had noticed that there was blood on his wrist that wasn't his own. Ivan's hand must have been cut pretty deeply… It had to have been from the window, but why would he just decide to stick his hand through a window? If only he'd taken a moment longer to _talk _to him, this accident might not have happened.

His brothers hadn't let up about his wrist when he had gotten home. What happened, who did it, what did you do, how could you have avoided it—that last one given by Eduard. Ever the practical one, his middle brother was always the one to put head before heart. That wasn't to say he didn't care of course; his very expression had said he was worried about Toris. The brunette knew that under all the lecturing his younger brother gave, he was only concerned for him. It didn't earn him any points when he said it wasn't in fact Ivan's fault. Toris blamed his superiors, the ones who didn't see fit to show him the file of a dangerous patient that he was to be working with. Even _if_ Level 1 was the lowest level of aggressive patients, precautions should be taken. Strangely, by the marks on the accident reports, Ivan was listed clearly as a Level 2.

Waxing and Waning, that's what Yao referred to as the patterns of aggression. According to the dates, Ivan was currently waxing. _Wonderful_… Toris gave a sigh as he set another sheet aside in its assigned pile at the end of his bed. He lay out on his stomach currently, well after midnight. His brothers had finally gone to bed after he'd promised them time together tomorrow. It was a good thing his day off was a Saturday. He'd been staring at these reports for hours, but he still couldn't find any triggers to explain what had happened between them.

Windows, mirrors, glass jars in the art room… On one of the reports the word reflection was underlined three times. So then he didn't like his own reflection… That explained the window, except that he spent an awful lot of time starring out of it normally. Perhaps it was only during _waxing _that he lashed out. He'd been arranging the reports by order of date, and it seemed that a pattern was finally emerging. December was a month of high aggression, and waxing started from the very first day. Some of the scars made sense when he saw the reports. Aside from having an unhealthy habit of breaking glass with his bare hands, Ivan also fought restraints to the point of drawing blood if they didn't take the necessary precautions. Turning another page, Toris' gaze froze on the words that greeted him. Most of them in Russian handwriting, he lifted the paper closer to his eyes to read it better.

_From the date of September 13__th__ 2007, the patient known as Ivan Braginski shall be transferred to the care of the Kirkland Institution for the Mentally Ill._

Ivan's entrance papers?

_Name: Ivan Vikentovitch Braginski_

_D.O.B.: December 30__th__, 1985_

1985… Ivan was twenty-four? His face made him seem younger, though he was definitely tall enough. That made him six years older than Toris, come the 30th.

_Previous Residence: Moscow, Russia_

_Family: Father, deceased. Mother, deceased. Elder sister, Ekaterina Vikentovaya Braginskaya. Younger sister, Natalya Vikentovaya Braginskaya._

_Family History: Little could be gathered. Father rumored to have had a drinking problem, mother was in and out of the hospital for two years up until she passed away from illness._

The sisters must be the two in the pictures, Toris decided. Sending their brother so far from home… what were they thinking? What was it that Ivan had said about them? Forgetting him for their own good, because they might hate him. And about his father, too… It struck a little too close to home, and he shoved it out of his mind. He could never forget his brothers. Contact information, physical descriptions and a chart of marks and scars that he entered the institution with… The burns on his shoulder and back were of interest, but no descriptions other than 'burns' were given right away. Toris suddenly felt a little guilty seeing this, as if he wasn't supposed to. But Ivan had allowed him to see his body in person, so surely this wasn't any worse? These were just drawn body outlines with scribbles! _Ah, here we go…_

_Date of original Residency: January 15__th__, 2002._

2002? That was eight years ago!

_Reason for residency: Delusions, aggression, willingness to harm himself and others. _

_Schizophrenia - Disorganized Type_

_a. Displays disorganized speech and inappropriate affect_

_Schizoaffective Disorder -Bipolar Type_

_Final Assessment_

_Psychotic Disorder Not Otherwise Specified _

_Possible mood disorder with psychotic features._

The last part was written in different handwriting in English. It matched Yao's from the incident reports. But… Green eyes skimmed the page for more information on his disorder, but to his great dismay there was nothing. _Nothing_! Ivan didn't like his reflection, and they had no idea what his diagnoses was. Needed to be sedated to sleep when aggressive, and he would behave for a while after solitary usually. Though some of the guesses might help him understand the Russian a little better, it didn't help him predict what he was going to do. That stingy Chinese man… he had to have more information than this. He'd been his primary for three years! There was supposed to be all kinds of notes and behavioral studies, right? Well Arthur did say that this was all that he could get. Perhaps he just hadn't wanted them to leave the institution. He could only hope that he would be allowed to see them when he returned.

Carefully putting the papers back into the folder, the Lithuanian set it aside on his bedside table. It was now Saturday, the 20th of December. He had a good six hours before his brothers would wake him up for their promised time together, so he might as well spend it sleeping instead of reading over papers that wouldn't help him at all at work. Not to mention they'd have to get to the A&E room early if they didn't want to waste his day off waiting for a doctor to look at his arm.

* * *

Morning came all too soon, and the trio of brothers spent a total of three hours in the emergency room. No matter how Toris told the two he could deal with it on his own, they both insisted on coming. He supposed it saved a bus ride home to pick them up, at least. To his relief, his wrist wasn't broken. Just a bit sprained, and it would take a few weeks to heal if he was careful enough. They gave him a splint and let it be, though once he was shown the bill he was grateful that the Institution would be the one paying for it. The rest of the day was a welcome relief from the week's stressors.

Then it was off to lunch with his brothers, followed by some shopping thanks to their new budget. They decided to rent a few movies and then stay in to watch them. Feliks invaded some time that evening, watching a movie with them. Thankfully the Pole seemed to be normal today, none of his confusing questions or accusative phrases aside from the initial chastisement Toris received about his wrist. Honestly, if one more person mentioned it… Thankfully he didn't have a class until Monday, but he did have to email his professor. His internship was worth school credit as well, but in turn he had to write about his learning every week.

_Week One_

_I learned a lot more than I ever thought I would on my first week at the Kirkland Institution for the Mentally Ill. A lot of it had to do with each specific patient. I can figure out what half of them have by their symptoms, but some of them remain a mystery. Dealing with them as an orderly is more personal than dealing with them as a doctor, I believe. While a doctor may get to watch them, study them, an orderly has to live amongst them. Doctors look at charts and behavior and make their decisions, but orderlies are the ones usually experiencing them. A few hours a week versus many hours alongside them. I admit I'm surprised._

_I had an accident yesterday. I tried a method I was shown by a doctor to see if a patient had taken pills, and the patient became upset and grabbed my wrist, spraining it. I was careless, it was my fault really. I've gotten along well with this patient, so this troubles me. I'm still searching for answers to what I did wrong, and I hope that I can repair the trust that I might have broken. It would be better for us both if I could. I will take this experience with me for a long time, and I know that this job will lead to a greater understanding of the people I will one day work with as a psychologist._

Toris re-read his email before sending it, sitting back on his bed with his laptop in his lap. A greater understanding… was it? He chewed his lower lip as he thought of his time already with Ivan. Patients like him existed, but they had to be rare right? Patients with a personal interest in their doctors and care takers? He'd heard of it before, but why did he have to be one of those rare cases? He supposed his biggest problem was that he wasn't completely opposed to Ivan.

Touching his lips lightly, he recalled their sordid kiss. It brought heat to his cheeks to think of it fondly, remembering how _good _Ivan had been at it. Just how did someone who was in a mental institution since he was seventeen become so good at kissing? Perhaps he didn't really want to know! Shutting his laptop down, the Lithuanian settled down into his bed at last. He really had to stop these crazy hours, or he was never going to get a good night's sleep. Ivan's painting of the matryoshka dolls was above his bed, carrying him off into their fanatical dreams.

* * *

For the first time that week, Toris slept in. Eduard and Raivis let him sleep until noon, when they woke him so that he could eat lunch before he went to work. Aside from his injured wrist, the Lithuanian felt in top shape that day. Shoving Ivan's file into his bag, he left the house at around 1:10, walking to the train station. He arrived at work with some five or so minutes to spare, feeling rather satisfied. He didn't know why, but the day seemed to be going good so far. That was all until he approached the main entrance and saw the security swarming about it. His heart suddenly plummeted to his stomach, where it became a cold and painful lump. Arthur spotted him as he approached, stepping over to him swiftly. "Toris," He said with a nod.

"Wh-what's all this?" He asked warily. Arthur furrowed his thick brows.

"As much as it pains me to say it… It's Ivan. He was allowed outside in the garden with the others to rake the leaves, with Dr. Wong's express permission. He said he would behave because of being in solitary Saturday. So much for that, the bloody _yob_!" The Englishman grit his teeth. "You go on inside, I don't want you to worry yourself over…"

"No!" Toris responded quickly in surprise. "I-I mean, that is if it's alright with you, let me help you look!" He said fervently. The Director was unsure, but he couldn't really argue right now.

"…I don't like it, but the fact of the matter is we need him found, and _fast. _Word gets out we're misplacing patients and next thing you know we'll lose all funding. Here, let me take your bag." He held out his hand and Toris handed it over.

"Thank you!" Toris exclaimed, turning to take off in the direction of the search party. Arthur frowned.

"That kid's a nutter, I should be thanking _him._" He remarked, shouldering the bag and heading back inside.

Toris received a direction to move in from the men already looking, and he headed towards it. Honestly, whoever made these grounds with so many trees and bushes was insane them self… How were you ever supposed to find someone like this? "I-Ivan!" He called out, hearing the others around him doing the same. It felt silly somehow to be calling for a _hiding _patient… Obviously he didn't want to be found. Regardless, he still called out, hands around his mouth. "Ivan, will come out now? People are worried!" Ah, more like _angry… _"_I'm _worried!" He tried instead. "_Ivaaann_!" He passes a series of tall bushes, raising his hands to call again. There was a small rustle beside him, and he jumped a good twelve inches back, back to the bushes as a squirrel jumped out. Sighing heavily, he cursed. "Damn squirrel…"

A long arm wound around his waist startled him, but a hand covered his mouth before he could scream. Branches and leaves scraped him as he was pulled backwards, heels dragging. He came out on the other side of the bushes, pressed tightly to a larger body. Pulling the hand off of his mouth, he turned around with an accusing stare. "Ivan!" He admonished. The Russian was covering his mouth already, nearly doubled over with laughter. "Ivan this isn't funny, you could be in a lot of trouble over this!"

"Did you see their faces?" Ivan chuckled into his hand. "Arthur's!" He laughed. Putting on his best frown, the Russian stood up straight, "What about the funding! The money, the money," He waved his hand, smiling again, "all that man cares about! He won't lose _mine._" Against all his better judgment, Toris felt the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a smile. Shaking his head, he frowned again.

"But what are you _doing _out here?" He asked. Ivan pointed to a small tree behind the bushes with him.

"My tree. I planted it from a peach seed months ago, because they said I couldn't." He said simply, as if that was a very good reason. "I wanted to check on it! Do you think it will survive the winter?" He asked excitedly. Toris bit his lower lip.

"W-well, it's really good to plant them during the fall actually. It has a good chance because it rains so much here, regular watering won't be a problem… The bushes block the wind from bending it, so… What?" Toris blinked.

"Toris knows about plants?" Ivan asked, staring at the orderly in a kind of reverence. The Lithuanian flushed.

"A-a little. I used to garden when I was younger, and I was interested in botany in high school. I was even in a club. Though I was the only boy…" He blushed a little more, averting his eyes. Ivan chuckled, smiling wide.

"_Moy drug _is perfect!" He hugged the smaller man, and Toris tensed. He was released soon enough thankfully, and they both heard voices coming close. "Ah, they'll find it!" Ivan worried.

"Not if we go out there. How did you get away in the first place?" Toris asked with another frown. Ivan grinned, pulling his scarf up to cover his mouth.

"She said 'Stay right there, I'll be right back'! Hehe, silly girl, right Toris?"

"Why do you always make it sound like I'm _with_ you on these things…?" The orderly sighed, taking the Russian's hand with his good hand. Ivan tensed a little, frowning suddenly. "What is it?"

"Toris isn't afraid?"

"A little late for that, don't you think? Besides, why do you think I was hurt?" Toris asked with a raised eyebrow. Ivan averted his eyes, his voice quiet,

"Because I was useless."

"No!" Toris snapped, clearly upset. Violet eyes shifted back. "Because I made a mistake and upset you! I should have been more careful. You should learn to control yourself, but that doesn't mean everyone can do whatever they want and you won't react. So I'm going to trust you to tell me when you're uncomfortable next time, and you can trust me to try not to upset you. Alright?" He asked. Ivan swallowed, covering his face up to his nose with his free hand. He nodded. "Good. Now let's go get you cleaned up… You're filthy from being outside in the mud." Ivan followed him back through the bush, but he complained.

"Ah, no, they'll get Yao! He'll scold me the whole time! You have to watch me, Toris! _Poshaluysta_!" The Russian pleaded.

"It would serve you right! I told you that you'd probably be in trouble for this, Ivan…"

"_Poshaluysta, moy drug_!" Ivan's hand tightened on the orderly's.

"There they are!" Voices shouted. Arthur was heading towards them, but Yao cut off his path. He was shouting something, but it was in Chinese, and it didn't sound very nice at all. Ivan stopped walking, both hands on Toris' shoulders as he tried to hide behind him.

"Get over here, Ivan!" Yao reverted back to English as he drew closer, trying to get around Toris to the Russian. Ivan only moved the Lithuanian this way or that, much to Toris' dismay.

"I-Ivan, I'll fall!"

"Ivan, you in big-big, _huge _trouble!" Yao exclaimed, pointing his finger. "I going to take away all privileges! In your room all time! I promise!" The dark-haired doctor was livid. "Come here now, it shower time!"

"_Nyet_!" Ivan whined. "Toris will watch me!"

"He will _not_! I watch you! Now let's go!" Dr. Wong pointed towards the entrance.

"_Nyet, nyet, nyet_!" Ivan shook his head quickly. Toris couldn't believe it. Ivan was usually so friendly with Yao, who was almost shorter than Toris. And yet right now he seemed… almost _frightened _of the Chinese doctor. Not that he could blame him… Yao was rather intimidating right now somehow…

"Wait just a moment, Dr. Wong." Arthur said as he stepped up, frowning. "I think if it's alright with Toris…"

"_Bu shi_!" Yao fumed.

"_If it's alright with Toris,_" The Director repeated, fixing Dr. Wong with a glare. "Then it's fine with me." He glanced to the brunette expectantly. Toris stood dumbfounded in the middle of it all suddenly. Ivan's fingers were pinching at his shoulders, and Yao was fixing him with a glare that could melt your soul. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth slowly,

"I…I guess… I could…" Ivan gave a small sound of happiness from behind him, while Yao threw up his hands, cursing in Chinese again. Toris felt as if any future children he ever might have were being doomed as he slumped his shoulders and Arthur nodded.

"Very well. I'll have someone send towels and a fresh pair of clothes for him. Afterwards he needs his medications." The Englishman turned on his heel, and Yao followed suit, muttering. Toris heaved a heavy sigh, following with heavy feet as Ivan hummed happily behind him.

* * *

Once inside the shower room, Ivan began to undress without a pause. His shirt had hit the floor before Toris remembered to glance away, heading for the bath tub to turn it on. "Ah-ah," Ivan said, "I'll shower today." He remarked with a smile, dropping his pants to the floor. Toris was blushing, chastising himself for it even as he nodded, and moved towards the door instead.

"I-I'll wait here for them to bring the towel and clothes then, so that they don't have to come in." He explained. Ivan set his scarf somewhere it wouldn't get wet.

"Ah, _spaciba_!" The blond responded, turning on the water. He jumped back with a startled yelp, hissing, "_Cold_!" Toris gave a small laugh behind his hand as the large man stuck his hand out, pulled it back, and stuck it out again until the water was warmer. Ivan only pouted at the orderly, adjusting the temperature and stepping under the spray at last. Water cascaded down over his short blond hair as he ran his fingers through it, soaking it quickly. Rivers of water ran over his shoulders, down his well-toned back. You could only see a little of the extra weight the Russian _did _have from behind him. The burn on his shoulder wasn't too bad at all, and it didn't take away from his attractiveness.

Water rolled right over that ample, rather shapely backside as well, causing Toris to swallow hard. Green flickered back upwards to see Ivan grinning knowingly, and the brunette gasped out loud as he looked away. _Something else… think of something else…_!

"_Eh-hem…_" He cleared his throat, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. Water splattered against the ground, and he tried not to think of anything other than that. "O-oh, Ivan… I wanted to ask you. Um, your … relationship with Dr. Wong…" He stopped when he heard chuckling, glancing back over. Ivan was soaping himself up now, washing away the dirt from his arms and legs.

"Relationship, you say…" He mused.

"Y-You know what I mean!" Toris flustered. Ivan glanced over to the orderly as he tilted his head slightly.

"_Da._" He said simply, stepping back under the water. Toris glanced mostly away, simply watching him out of the corner of his eyes for the sake of doing his job.

"Then…?"

"I liked Yao." Ivan admitted bluntly. Toris felt tightness in his chest as his face heated up a bit. Shifting his feet, he looked down at the tiled floor.

"…I see."

"But I don't anymore!" Ivan continued, grabbing the shampoo. He began to put it on his hair as he spoke. "I got over it! I like Toris now!" He stepped under the water, washing the shampoo out. Somehow hearing that didn't help this feeling, and yet Toris felt it should have. It really should have.

"So, you'll get over liking me." He decided. Ivan's gaze moved over to the Lithuanian swiftly, frowning.

"_Nyet_!" He said sharply. Suddenly he was heading over to the brunette, and Toris pressed his back into the wall as he blushed, palms flat against the solid surface. He couldn't look anywhere but Ivan's face once the Russian was close, placing his hand to the wall beside the orderly's head. "_Nyet, _Toris is different!" He said with a hint of desperation to his voice. His expression was raw without his scarf to cover it; brows furrowed and eyes the lightest color of violet.

"H-how am I different?" Toris tested.

"Toris treats me like I am a person, and not inventory. He speaks kindly to me, and when he scolds me it's because he worries about me. Yao bosses me around and speaks harshly to me all the time. He says such things some days, things I hate to hear."

"Th-they probably for your own good Ivan… Dr. Wong is a good doctor isn't he? He works with you, you listen to him…" Toris responded with, shaking his head. Ivan smiled a little.

"Yao is my friend. He is on my side, but not one of us. Toris, I like you." He leaned in a little closer, his free hand reaching back to slip the tie from Toris' hair.

"_I-Ivan_!" The Lithuanian whispered as not to shout. He reached up, but the patient held the hair tie out of reach. "You've known me for a week!"

"I'm already crazy Toris. Sanity holds no rules over me, so what does it matter?"

"I have a feeling you're too smart to be as crazy as everyone thinks!" The orderly fumed, his blush reaching his ears now. Ivan was amused,

"Ah, you see? Toris already knows me so well. Only Yao has ever said that to me." He grinned.

"Then go and be with Yao!" Toris suggested, hands closing into fists against the wall. Ivan shook his head.

"Toris says to me '_Spokoynoy nochi'._ You only say that to someone you're going to bed with." He smiled now as if he was giving away a secret. Toris' eyes widened.

"I-I didn't know…!" He started, but Ivan's chuckling made him drift off. "You _know _that!"

"_Da, _but it still felt good. Did your _babushka_ say that to you? My _dorogaya_ _mat'_ did too, when she stayed until I fell asleep." He recalled fondly. "No one else makes me feel like that, Toris. Not in eight years have I ever felt this way. So, Toris… won't you be mine?" Lips brushed before Ivan pulled back for an answer, his expression straight, no amusement left there. Toris' breath shuddered as he breathed out, heart up in his throat and pounding in his ears. His stomach was light, but in knots. Opened his mouth re respond—_knock knock knock_! Both of them jumped at the sudden sound.

"Toris, I brought the towel and some clothes for Ivan!" Sarah's voice called. Ivan's expression became alarmed, and he scooted back behind the door. Toris shook his head, opening it just enough to accept the clothing, smiling nervously.

"Th-thank you Sarah." He said shakily, not waiting for an answer to close the door. Holding out the towel to Ivan, he kept his eyes averted. Ivan took it thankfully, drying himself off swiftly. They stayed in silence as he did, until he held out his hand for his clothing. Toris handed it over, swallowing. "A-about that…"

"_Nyet, nyet._" Ivan responded with a shake of his head as he pulled his boxers on. His pants were next as he smiled, "The mood has passed. I'll ask again later."

"B-but…"

"Ah-ah!" Ivan slipped on his shirt, retrieving his scarf from the hook on the wall and wrapping it around his neck. It hid his face again, his expression gone except for those smiling eyes which seemed a little empty now. Toris' expression was sad, but he nodded. Opening the door, he gave a shout of surprise as he was greeted with Yao's glaring face. Ivan ducked down behind the Lithuanian, but he was too tall to be covered completely. The dark-haired doctor pointed his finger at the patient.

"You. Room, now. Jeff will take you." He gestured to the orderly beside him. "You." He pointed to Toris. "With me." He didn't wait to turn on his heel, heading off down the hall. Toris swallowed as he glanced back at Ivan who was giving him what he swore was a sympathetic look. The Russian stepped past him then, pulling his arm away from Jeff's grabbing hand.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, and Jeff only glared. Ivan headed off down the hall without looking back, leaving Toris alone.

"Toris!" Except for the Chinese man calling his name.

"Y-yes!" He turned as well, following the doctor. They headed through the door to the stairs leading to the offices, following the halls back towards the oval in the center of the giant building. They reached Yao's office soon enough, and Toris let the door close behind him with a click. The doctor walked all the way to his desk, moving to sit behind it. He gestured to one of the two seats in front of it, and the brunette warily sat down. With a heavy sigh, Yao spoke.

"What I tell you?" He asked, frowning at the Lithuanian. Toris swallowed,

"Wh-when?"

"I tell you to be careful!" Yao slapped his palm onto the desk, right over Ivan's file that Toris had brought back that day.

"Ah, but those incidents…"

"Not these incidents! I not give them to you to scare you. Though right now Ivan waxing, need to be more careful yes. But I tell you be careful for other reason." Dark eyes narrowed a little, and Toris felt his face getting hot. He looked a bit uncomfortable, and it didn't escape the doctor's notice. "He like you, I know. But that not mean he not hurt you." Yao stood up, undoing his long white coat. His hands began to work on his shirt buttons, and Toris blinked.

"Wh-what are you…?" He stopped when the Chinese man pulled aside the opening of his shirt to the right, revealing a scar. It looked as if…

"Ivan like me. He stabbed me when we talk one day, in therapy. He cannot control." Yao explained, letting Toris get a long look before he began to fix his shirt back up. He sat back down.

"Wh-what were you talking about?"

"You think like doctor. I like that, Toris." Dr. Wong said with a nod, sitting back down. "Do you know how his father die?" Toris shook his head. "Fire. His house burn down, and they find Ivan burned and shouting 'I'm not sorry, I'm not sorry'. He was bruised up, not from fire. I get his medical records, and they show me things." He placed his hand over another file. "Long, sad history. They say he fight with father, start fire. Ivan was not right," Yao tapped his head, "So they send him to mental institution. Five years in Russia, before they move him here." Toris nodded,

"I saw the entrance papers, but… I didn't know about the fire. Nothing was listed." He said in surprise.

"That because they wish us not to know!" He frowned. "Ivan violent, we not take new violent patients. They say he harmless." Yao laughed. "He is child." Yao's dark eyes moved over the folders on his desk fondly. "But smart child. He close to me." The doctor touched his chest. "I not wish him to be hurt." He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "I thought he ok to go outside, but he surprise me. You bring him back, you watch him in shower. He close to you." Yao said as a fact. Toris bit his lower lip guiltily, and he couldn't deny it. He gave a nod. The doctor sighed again. "He will hurt you."

"I'm resilient." Toris said stubbornly.

"You know what past about father mean?"

"I do." _More than you know I do. _The Lithuanian thought to himself. "It means he was … His father was an alcoholic, right? And the medical reports… Ivan was abused then." Such a sour, awful word. It did nothing to convey everything that went on in a broken home. "Was the session he stabbed you in about his father?"

"Very good." Yao praised. "You too smart for orderly. When you become doctor intern, maybe you work here again." Toris accepted the compliment, but nothing could lift his mood right now. Hearing these things about Ivan only made him want to help the man more, not scare him away as it was intended. The doctor seemed to know this. "I know about you. I ask Arthur, and he tell me everything. I think reason you want to be psychologist so bad because of family. Am I right?" Toris' eyes moved to the floor.

"…Yes."

"It good reason, but don't get hurt. After this," Yao touched his shoulder, "Ivan punish himself for a week. He no eat, no take medicine, break jar and cut self, was nearly put on feeding tube in isolation." Toris' expression was alarmed. "Ah, no worry. He not do that over your arm. But he come close. If you did not forgive, he might have." Yao sat up straight. "Ivan not only hurt you." He said firmly, finger pointing to the thick folder.

"I-I get it."

"You make sure you not harm him, even if it's by not letting him harm you." Sitting back again, he crossed his arms. "He hurt you again, I will be here. I will write to your professor and tell him you not listen."

"But that's…!" Toris sat up straight now.

"Not like it, then stay away from Ivan." Yao said firmly. Toris felt the bridge of his nose itching in anger, one hand closing into a fist. It wasn't fair! Ivan was dangerous, sure, and it wasn't like he _wanted _to be hurt but how could he stay away?

"Tell me why he hurt me then!" He demanded. Yao nodded.

"Yes, yes that. He fat." The doctor stated. Toris paused in confusion.

"…_What_?"

"He fat. You squeeze his cheeks." Yao squeezed his own for a moment. "He think you say he fat. I tell you he abused."

"B-but he's _not _fat!" Toris argued. "And i-is that something he was abused over?" Yao nodded. "I-I didn't know…!" The orderly was aghast at the thought.

"How you not know? Look how big he is." Yao frowned. Toris frowned right back.

"Not that! That it was a trigger!"

"Ah yes, that." Yao stood up again, both hands on his desk. "If you had stay away like I say, it never happen. Now you know." They stared at one another for a while, eyes narrow and brows drawn. Neither of them was willing to back down, the both of them thinking they knew what was best. After a while, Yao waved his hand. "Arthur trust you, nothing I can do. He no care about Ivan like we do. But I have system, and it work!" He tapped the folder again.

"You think that if I stay away… it's best for him?"

"Unless you get yourself hurt, it's no harm to anyone." Toris breathed a sigh of relief. Yao may have threatened his internship, but there was that condition.

"And… the other thing?" The orderly asked warily.

"I no care what you and he do! Do not get hurt, do not hurt him!"

"A-alright!" Toris answered hurriedly. Yao… Yao _knew_! How much did Ivan confide, and what had he figured out? Swallowing, Toris stood up slowly. "I-I should get back to my shift then." Yao sighed heavily, sitting back into his seat. He waved his hand.

"Go, go. But remember what I say. Everything about it." He said as he lifted up his pen, opening a folder to start writing swiftly. Toris nodded, feeling his heart pounding as he headed for the door. He left the office with a vague sense of relief about him. Someone _knew… _And he didn't say that Ivan was manipulating him, or joking with him. That means it was true, about Ivan liking Yao… But, he said he was over it, right?

_Mano Dievas… am I really considering Ivan's offer_?_ How insane am__I_? _Ivan's the crazy one, and yet I… Then again, what does sanity even have to do with it_?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N

A change of pace. ;)

* * *

l

l

It was maddening. For the first time Ivan wanted something that he couldn't reach, something outside of his little world of white walls and barred windows. But Toris was like a butterfly, the kind he used to catch in his mother's garden. If he caught him to tightly within his hands he would smother him, and crush his fragile wings. He had to build a cage around him, carefully and without any cracks. But Toris wasn't any normal butterfly. He was as smart as he was precious, but also so naïve. He needed something to bring him down to his level, because all other methods weren't working fast enough.

Sitting on his bed up by the headboard in the corner, back against the wall and knees tucked up, one arm around them; Ivan held a picture in his other hand. It was the portrait of Toris that Lovino's brother had drawn. He'd taken it from him while Toris' back was turned that day. It was folded small enough to fit in with his sisters, so there were creases here and there, and it was a little smudged from being touched. Mostly the hair by his cheeks. Every time he touched them he thought of how soft those cheeks were, how he wanted to touch them always.

If only Toris knew how much that first drop of tea to touch his tongue had meant. All that Yao would give him was awful tea from China, and no one else cared at all. There was something about his _eyes… _Something that reminded Ivan of _himself… _A closely guarded secret… if only he knew what it was! The Russian was sure that if he could just find out, he could capture the so far elusive orderly. So stubborn! He gripped the end of the picture, wrinkling it a little. He'd given his seduction his very best shot, even allowing the brunette the honor of seeing him naked.

And Toris had not looked away. On the contrary, he had _stared_! He was attracted, right? So what was wrong! '_I'm an orderly, you're a patient._' So what! He'd almost had Yao, but the Chinese doctor was unappealing as a lover. He was too harsh, and he couldn't understand the Russian well enough. He worked with him sure, but he didn't quite grip the depth of him. Besides, he'd already wounded Yao too deeply to go back. He touched his own shoulder where the doctor's wound was, feeling a pang of guilt. He _hated _guilt. Guilt like what he'd felt all day in isolation after twisting Toris' wrist. But the orderly wasn't angry at all! He'd found the Russian as if by God's design, that is if God had any creativity left.

Ivan thought about his little peach tree and how great it would be if he bore fruit some day. But he already knew that would take years. And before all of this, that hadn't seemed such a long wait. Before Toris, years were but numbers, where not even the days were worth counting anymore. _You've known me for a week_! That's what the Lithuanian had said. Yes it was a week, but it was the longest week the Russian had ever lived. Toris was… Toris was his sunflower. The soft petals of his hair, the softness of his lips, a unique taste. And his _smell, _it was completely neutral to everyone else, and yet the blond felt that he could track him by that scent alone. The dark green of his scrubs were like his stems—that slender body and those long legs. Ivan shuddered as a wave of pleasure passed over him at the memory of that body pressed against his own.

Such a wonderfully freeing feeling! When Toris was with him, it felt as if he was free. He could forget about everything that held him here. His sisters, his father, the fire… _Ouch. _This pain was from his head. Probably withdrawal from whatever they gave him in solitary to make him quieter… He wanted it to be that. He didn't want it to be the fire, the heat that could rise up from inside of him to catch the sheets on fire, burning his skin away until there were only cinders left on bare bones. No one knew how _hard _it was to spend a day as a skeleton. But it was better than spending it looking into his own reflection. And it was everywhere!

This institution was full of them. Reflective surfaces. Windows, mirrors, the glass from the safe room that the orderlies hid behind, even the _floors _when they were clean. Some days it took everything he had not to bloody his nails trying to rip up the tile he walked on, just so that he didn't accidentally look _down _at himself. And knowing it was there, his reflection, waiting to mock him was infuriating. At least then he could step on his own face, but the orderlies hated it when he stomped his feet so loudly for 'no reason'. Idiots.

_No, no no. _He was getting side tracked. If he got stuck thinking like this he was never going to get Toris! Damn Yao! Being stuck in his room was worse than isolation! He had a _choice _of things to do in here, and after all these years Ivan wasn't very good at choice. He never made good choices. Should he have the yellow or the green jello, should he smile or frown when something happened, should he start a fight with Alfred, should he hit father back? "_Ahahaha…_" He laughed quietly. No, he wasn't very good at choices at all. It was so much _easier _when people made choices for him. Yao was good at that after all. There was a knock at the door suddenly, and Ivan barely had enough time to hide his precious picture before it was opened. Violet eyes narrowed at Sarah who came in, her expression going from a smile to frightened in a split second. "W-what's wrong Ivan?" She tried to sound cheerful. Ivan only glared harder, and she swallowed. "I brought your medication… Please do take them." She said as she stepped in close. Damn her! She knew he couldn't hit a woman. She held the cup of pills out.

"_Nyet._" He slapped the cup from her hands, sending the pills tumbling out onto the bed. She gasped in surprise, frowning at the patient a moment later.

"Alright, fine. But I'm going to have to tell Dr. Wong." She said as she set the cup of water down on the bedside table and placed her hands on her hips.

"_Fine._" He muttered, crossing his arms over his knees again. Sarah threw up her hands, heading towards the door.

"Alright, alright. But Toris will be sad too." She set her hand on the door handle.

"Wait." Ivan said quickly, and Sarah glanced back in question. "…Will Toris really be sad?"

"Of course he will! You should have seen his face the first time he heard you were put in isolation over night! He looked like he wanted to cry." The female orderly said, her expression quite sad. Not that he cared about _her _expression, but thinking of his friend's saddened face made his heart pound with glee. Without another word, Ivan picked up the pills with nimble fingers, popping them into his mouth. He swallowed them down, and then drank the water. Opening his mouth and showing under his tongue, he closed it with a grin. Sarah smiled. "Thank you Ivan." She said as she came over to collect the cups. She left without a word, leaving the Russian to grin all by himself. He lay down then, placing his hand over the mattress just above where the picture was hidden in the envelope with his sisters.

* * *

Ivan was awoken by the shaking of his shoulder. Eyes opened slowly to find his none other than his nemesis the American's blue eyes staring into his own. Alfred was smiling wide—that is until Ivan shoved his face back at arm's length."Hey man, what the hell!" The golden-haired man snapped, nearly falling back.

"Get out." Ivan muttered. "Don't you know that I'm in trouble?" He asked with a lifted eyebrow. Alfred laughed. It was much too loud for Ivan's ears, and he covered them for a moment. Hands came down when he stopped, but he covered his mouth with his scarf as if he didn't want to breathe the same air.

"I know man. Everyone knows. Mary was crying, Arthur really chewed her out. Poor girl, getting in trouble because an ass like you wanted to take a walk." He crossed his arms. Ivan was unmoved. "Oh man and Yao was _pissed_! That was a sight to see, you cowering behind poor Toris!"

"Don't say his name." Violet eyes narrowed.

"_Oooh, _a soft spot! He's cute isn't he? His hair's kinda long, and his face is kinda pretty. I guess after being in here so long someone like you's gotta be desperate, huh?" Alfred smirked. Ivan only sat up on his bed, pulling the scarf up over his nose as well. "_Ahahaha, _I'm right!" Al pointed his finger at the other patient. "So, so, you like him huh?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business Jones."

"Oh well in that case you don't mind if I go for him, right? I mean, he _is _cute. I bet he's the type to blush at a dirty joke. And at least _I _wouldn't hurt him." Alfred stopped as Ivan suddenly stood from his bed, scarf falling back to his neck as he advanced on the American."Woah hey now," Al's hands were up, "what are you so pissed about?" He asked with a grin.

"I think you know very well, Jones. You love to provoke me."

"You love it when I provoke you." Alfred shot back with a smile. Ivan smiled as well, a cold and quite dangerous razor of a grin. The door opened suddenly, drawing both gazes to it. Yao stepped through, glancing around for the Russian, only to glare when he discovered an extra occupant.

"Alfred! You leave now, you have group therapy."

"Will Toris be there?" Al asked anxiously. Ivan tensed, hands closing into fists.

"What? Yes, he be there! No you go! I talk with Ivan now." He pointed his finger to the door, and Alfred's smile beamed. Ivan wanted to punch it right off of him, fists so tight that his knuckles were white.

"Great! See you later Ivan. I'll tell Toris you said hello." He winked, leaving just as Ivan took a step for the door. He was stopped by Yao's hand on his chest. Despite the doctor's small size, it was more than enough to stop the Russian.

"_Bu shi_! You already in enough trouble!" Yao chastised. Ivan gave the doctor something of an unhappy expression, though he relented. Moving back over to his bed, he scooted back to his original position in the corner. Yao grabbed the chair from the desk by the wall opposite, scooting it over to the bedside. He sat himself down, taking a deep breath. "You surprised me, I don't like it. We had deal." He started off with, though Ivan was looking towards his barred window. A paper sunflower sat there in a paper pot, it had been sent by his sister two years ago. "Ivan! You listen to me!" Yao snapped his fingers, drawing the Russian's irritated look.

"I had my own business."

"No, you not! I told you before you not have own business here, except to get better." Yao explained, tapping the back of his left hand onto his right palm. Ivan's eyes shifted downwards, brows furrowing. Dr. Wong rose one black eyebrow. "What, no argue? No 'I never get out'?" Ivan remained silent, wondering about that. Once he would have said that, yes… But now he was really thinking about it. If he couldn't bring Toris to him, then it was his own option right? Yao sat back in his chair, tossing his hands into the air. "Something different, Ivan. But what?" He frowned.

"…I don't know." Ivan pulled his scarf up over his nose, his other arm tightly around his knees. The doctor shook his head.

"I think you do. And I need know!" Yao stressed, his expression more honestly frustrated than anything. "Much longer and Arthur move you to Level Two. You no want that, you never go outside. You stay in room unless watched all times." Ivan flinched. He didn't want to move to Level Two… It would be no fun at all there. The orderlies were accompanied by guards at all times, and they never tried to treat you kindly. Such an atmosphere… It would push him right back into the shell that Yao had slowly brought him out of.

"…It's… It was his eyes." Ivan said quietly, letting go of his scarf to trace patterns in his bedspread.

"What? Who eyes?" A second later the doctor seemed to realize. "Ah, that nosey kid? He only here to learn, you leave him alone!" Yao scolded, pointing his finger. Ivan was unperturbed. He smiled at the bed.

"_Moya __dorogaya_ _mat's _eyes..._._" He said softly.

"What? Ivan, you being unreasonable. Are they same color?" Yao's look was one a parent gave a child when they were making up a story.

"_Nyet_." Ivan shook his head. "Toris is… _damaged._" He murmured.

"How you know?" The doctor questioned.

"How many wrists have I twisted or broken?" Ivan looked back up. Yao frowned, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms.

"Thirty-two in three years you been here, sixteen separate orderlies. You know how hard I argue to keep you Level One?" The Chinese man snapped. Ivan grinned, as if he was proud.

"And how many quit or were moved?"

"Over half! Stop smiling!" Yao demanded, but of course it was ignored.

"Toris came right back to me. He was even alone with me, twice. How many others can…"

"None! Alright, I understand." Yao huffed, though he wasn't happy with understanding. Ivan tilted his head, his grin almost giddy. "I know he damaged, but that all more reason to not play with him!" This made Ivan's gaze hard, frowning as his eyes narrowed.

"I'm _not _playing."

"You spoiled child, Ivan! Big, spoiled child. You grow too big for your room, and you want new toy. That toy is Toris. Before toy was me." Yao pointed his finger to himself. Ivan shook his head.

"It's different. I never wantedyou; I only played at it to see if I could." The Russian shrugged as if he was uninterested. "And when I couldn't I settled for having you on my side. Do you remember what I had to do to get that?" Ivan grinned again, and it wasn't very nice at all. Yao's eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Let us not bring that up." He said sourly. Eyes widened a moment later. "Ah, you want his secret!" He said as if coming to a revelation. Ivan only tilted his head up slightly, and Yao's face became a light pink in anger. He stood up, pointing his finger accusingly. "You won't get it! I already warn him! He know to stay away!" Ivan didn't seem convinced, his smile confident. "You infuriating child! Ngh, I turn you over my knee if I was allowed!" The Russian laughed now, causing the doctor's face to redden even more. "I finished talking. You not see Toris again today!" Now Ivan's face changed, shifting to one of almost innocent alarm. "Ha," Yao grinned, "That right. You no behave, you stay in room! You stay in room, he do his job!" Yao turned towards the door, stopped by Ivan grabbing his wrist.

"Wait, Yao, I'll be good!" He pleaded, on his knees on the bed. Yao shook his head, trying to unwind Ivan's hands from his arm.

"You push too much today. I trust you, you break it by wandering off! In your room all day, I said this!" He tugged at his arm fruitlessly. "Let go, or I call for them to give drugs!" Ivan did let go then, but it wasn't to give in. He stood up from the bed, lifting the chair that Yao had been sitting on up into the air. "Ivan, _no_…!" _Clack_! The chair slammed loudly against the wall of the room, and Ivan pulled it back again. Yao opened the door, shouting down the hall, "Eric! Je—!" _CLACK—SNAP_. "Jeff!" He stood back as Ivan dropped the chair, panting lightly. One of the legs had snapped off and flown across the room, thankfully without hitting either of them. Patients were looking down the hall now, as the two orderlies came running down. Yao stepped aside as they came in. "Sedate him. And I'm increasing his dosage of Risperidone tonight."

The two large orderlies struggled with the Russian, who to be fair wasn't really using his full strength. He was more upset than angry, but even like this he knew that injuring another orderly wouldn't win him any points with the already irritated Yao. Arthur trusted the Chinese doctor enough to leave his care almost completely up to him, which could be helpful at times, and other times annoying. Ivan didn't even wince when the needle was jabbed into his thigh, his gaze never leaving the doctor's face. His breath slowly calmed down from panting, and he stopped struggling within a minute or two, his body slowly going lax between the two tall orderlies.

"_You're hurting me._" He murmured, violet eyes all the expression that he needed. Jeff tsk'd his tongue.

"We're barely holding you." He said in defense. Yao shook his head,

"He not talking to you. Put him on the bed and go." The doctor ordered. The orderlies shrugged, leading the heavy Russian to sit on the side of the bed. They left without a word, closing the door behind him. Yao's arms were crossed as he came over to stand in front of the now drowsy Russian. He stared into those eyes with his own dark ones, his resolution unshakeable. "You hurting self, Ivan." He said firmly. "You want that boy so much, you control self!" He indicated the broken chair. "Otherwise, you do this to _him_." Ivan glanced over to the chair, looking a little worried. "Good. You understand." He touched the Russian's hair, brushing his bangs from his eyes. "Rest."

"I want to see him…" Ivan protested, frowning. Yao frowned right back.

"Spoiled child. Do what I say, maybe I feel generous." He said as he turned his back, heading for the door. Ivan was hopeful at that statement. Yao didn't usually lie, so if he was good… The Russian laid down, pulling his blanket over him. His eyes were already closed by the time that the Chinese doctor had opened the door. Swiping his card when he closed it, he locked it behind him. It wouldn't do well to have anyone else coming in to bother him when he was trying to rest.

* * *

There were few things that Ivan hated more than being sedated. Especially since they often forgot how big that he was, and the amount that they gave him was merely good enough to make him incredibly drowsy. He could sleep if he wanted to, but it wouldn't stop him from dreaming. However he dreamed whether he was sleeping or not.

Sometimes it wasn't so bad. He could think of his mother's gardens, and it would become so vivid that he would feel the wind on his cheeks and smell the sweet perfume of flowers. But sooner or later it was always the same. That gentle wind would become the lick of flames, and the scent of flowers would become burnt wood and skin. His shoulder would itch where his scar was, and he would end up rubbing it until it was too sore to be touched. The smoke was so thick that he couldn't breathe and if he opened his eyes now… "_Hah…hah…hah…_" It was so _hot…_ Ivan kept his eyes closed tightly, terrified to open them. If he did, those eyes would burn into the pit of his soul, holding him captive in this private hell.

So much pain, he felt as if he could feel it all at once. Old bruises and sharper, more precise cuts. They were almost worse than this terrible heat. He was twisted in his sheets; he _knew _that was the reason for his immobility, but it didn't stop him from thinking of that tightly enclosed space. Without opening his eyes it was all that he could think about. The darkness, the shortness of air, three walls and a door left completely unlocked. Yet still his fear froze him as well as iron shackles would have. He couldn't even lift his hand to touch the handle, because it was as hot as if it had a fire under it. _Flames. _He could almost envision the light from under the door, and it brought in the smoke again. Thinning the air already there, he felt like choking.

"Ivan,"

_Music… _It was coming from somewhere. Sharp and high-pitched. A piano?

"Ivan?"

_No. _It wasn't a piano.

"Hey, Ivan." There was a light pressure on his shoulder.

_It was a music box._

"Ivan, please wake up for a moment." Violet eyes shot open with a gasp, startling the one who had woken him. Toris jumped back, hand over his heart as his green eyes widened. _Those eyes… _"You frightened me!" The brunette said with a light frown. "You're burning up," A cool hand came over the Russian's forehead. "Do you have a fever? Should I get Dr. Honda?" Ivan closed his eyes again, a smile creasing his lips.

"Am I still dreaming?" The room was dark after all, and Toris was but a shadowy figure. That hand on his forehead was a heavenly splash of holy water to cool his hell.

"No, you're awake now." Toris assured him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine now." The blond patient opened his eyes again, still smiling. His body felt cooler already. "Why are you here?" He asked curiously.

"Ah," Toris moved his hand to Ivan's cheek, still frowning in concern. "Dr. Wong said that I could say goodbye. My shift is over, and I was about to go home but I was concerned. Were you dreaming?" He asked. Ivan shook his head.

"It doesn't matter." He took that hand on his cheek, kissing the palm. Even in the dark he could imagine the blush that came with the expression he was given. "It's gone now."

"Well it doesn't seem like it was a very nice dream, so I'm glad." Toris decided, letting the Russian hold his hand. "I brought you some food, too. You slept through dinner, so I thought you might be hungry. Also, your pills…" He turned his head to the bedside table. "Ah…" Ivan's fingers touched his chin, turning his face back to him.

"Your hair." Ivan said with a slight pout. Toris sighed.

"I guess since I'm going home anyway…" Reaching up with the hand not being held, he pulled out his hair tie. Ivan tugged his bangs at once. "O-ow, hey…!" The brunette protested, but he bent over as he was pulled down a little. The Russian's long fingers swept through his hair next, tucking it back away behind his ear.

"There…" Ivan smiled. "I like…"

"I know, you like it down right?" Toris finished for him.

"Mm." The blond said with a nod.

"Ivan… why did you break the chair? And why did you break Yao's trust?" Toris frowned again. Ivan reached up, covering his nose with the scarf which had been tangled around him.

"I wanted to." He answered simply. Toris shook his head.

"That's not good enough…"

"Because… I was worried about the tree. And I was angry when I broke the chair." Ivan was nearly pouting, though it was hidden by the scarf.

"Alright, I can _almost _understand the tree if you weren't already on probation. But Yao trusted you. When you did that, you hurt his credibility." Ivan _hated _being scolded, but when it was Toris he never knew what to do. "You could have asked me to check on it…" At that Ivan blinked his eyes.

"Toris would… do that?" He asked cautiously.

"Of course, now that I know about it. But," He removed his hand from Ivan's, holding up a finger. "That doesn't excuse the chair. Hasn't anyone ever told you to count to ten?" Ivan laughed.

"More times than you know." He said with a grin, though Toris was frowning. He somehow liked that look on him.

"Well then you should actually _try _it." The orderly said.

"But…" _I wanted to see you. Thinking about all those other patients who got to see you, hear you speak, _touch _you… _He couldn't say that out loud right now, Toris would only fluster and recoil. "…Alright." He said grudgingly. Toris smiled; a beautiful sight. He liked it even more than his troubled frown.

"Really? Good! Then I can trust you until I come back tomorrow, right?" Toris asked. Ivan's grin became mischievous underneath his scarf.

"What will you give me?" He asked curiously, like a child asking for a gift. Toris paused, unsure of what exactly the Russian was leading towards.

"I…I can bring you some tea." The orderly offered.

"How about a kiss?" Ivan asked.

"Wh-what?"

"A kiss! If I am good, Toris will give me a kiss." He said with assurance. The Lithuanian's face was flushed a bright red. He was quiet for a moment, before speaking up hesitantly.

"If I promise that… Then you'll be good? No incidents? No breaking things or fighting…"

"_Da, da, _and _da_!" Ivan said excitedly. Toris sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his head.

"Then… I guess that's alright. You've already stolen one anyways." He added with a mutter. Ivan lowered his scarf to show his smile, and Toris only blushed more. "I-I should go." He grabbed the cup of pills, handing it to Ivan. "Take them, please." The Russian tipped back the cup without hesitation, swallowing them dry. He opened his mouth to show under his tongue before he was asked.

"Ah, if Toris wants to, he could always stick his finger in to check the inside of my cheeks." Ivan offered all too helpfully. Toris stood up, flustered.

"A-as if I would do something like that…!" He exclaimed, irritated at Ivan's laughter that followed. The brunette turned to leave, but Ivan stopped him with his voice.

"Wait…!" He called, as if alarmed. "Ah," He swallowed when Toris turned back. "…Would you say it for me? Even though I told you what it means…" Toris frowned in confusion for a moment, and then realization came to him. He gave a small sigh, though he was unable to keep the smile from his face. Sitting on the edge of the bed again, he leaned over to brush Ivan's hair from his forehead to feel it again. With a quiet voice, he said it.

"_Spokoynoy nochi, _Ivan." He said, pressing dry lips to that bare forehead. Ivan smiled so wide that his cheeks threatened to hurt.

"_Spokoynoy nochi, _Toris!" He responded happily. Toris smiled despite his blush, standing up again.

"Eat something before you sleep." He said as he headed for the door. Ivan sat up as he left, already reaching for the tray of food. Once he had closed the door, Toris remembered his hair was down. Looking at his hands, he noticed he didn't have it. Well, he didn't want to disturb him _now… _He hoped that wasn't something he could get in trouble for as he headed off down the hall.

Inside his room, Ivan was every bit in heaven. Even the institution's bland food couldn't bring his mood down. He's been promised a kiss, and even given one already! It was on his forehead, but it was more than he had expected. Perhaps he _could _win the orderly over without knowing his weakness… It would be the first time that he had gained someone's attention without forcing their trust. He finished his food quickly, setting the tray back into the table and settling down to sleep. He held Toris' hair tie tightly in his hand. He'd tuck it away into his envelope of pictures later… For the second time that month, he didn't fall back into his nightmares.

* * *

The day was boring without Toris. Before they were boring too, but somehow it seemed even harder to bear now that he had something to look forward to. That bright smile and soothing voice… It had even chased away his nightmares! Not even Alfred's prattling on in the common room could rile him up enough to say something as he sat in the corner of the room in a chair, facing away from the window. This way, he didn't have to see his pesky reflection and risk having to smash it again. His hand was still bandaged after all, and breaking the chair yesterday hadn't done it any favors. Also, he got to watch the end of the hallway where his precious Lithuanian would appear at any moment!

He was giddy with excitement, smiling under the scarf that he kept up over his nose so that no one could see. He'd taken his pills without complaint, and behaved himself at breakfast and lunch, even turned down a chance to play a joke on Gilbert! Oh, he was going to cash in on that kiss. Not just any kiss either, he wanted a _real _kiss… He might be a little rusty after this long, but he'd seen the Lithuanian's flushed face when he stole that kiss late at night… If he could kiss him again, he _knew _he would have him!

His eyes lit up as he saw his Lithuanian come around the corner, green eyes searching for him. He knew they were searching for him, because once they ran across the Russian they stopped, and his precious orderly blushed. Ducking his head down, Toris headed for the safe room, leaving Ivan to smile and wait.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N

100 reviews! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart! I hope you continue to like this story. :)

Fixed a small inconsistency about Ivan's age on chapter 7. He's not quite25 yet. Xp

My partner in crime has profiles for the characters being drawn, and I made an FST for this fic. Anyone interested in seeing it?

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Toris hurried into the safe room as fast as he could, heat spreading across his cheeks. Sarah smiled and greeted him, but he only offered a slight smile and a wave as he passed her, hurrying for the break room. Once inside he leaned against the back of the door and clutched his bag to his chest. He'd thought about it all last night, and all through his morning class! Why had he made that stupid promise! It wasn't that he _wanted _Ivan to get into trouble, but he found himself more and more wary of giving the Russian what he wanted. _So, Toris…won't you be mine_? Would he take that promise as a yes? Would he ask again? There were too many questions to consider.

Heading over to the lockers, Toris opened his own to shove his bag inside. It had been unprofessional to make such a promise in the first place! Then again, he was quite sure that kissing him—or being kissed and not reporting it, meant that he was already beyond that professional wall with Ivan. So if they weren't professional, and they weren't together, what were they? Friends didn't kiss like that, and they didn't profess their love after a week either. The most important thing here was… Was he taking advantage of Ivan's feelings for him?

Toris was lonely. He had been for a while now, though he hadn't seemed to notice through all the schooling and time spent with his brothers and friends. He needed _more, _but how could he know what he was lacking until he could have had it? And yet it was all wrong! If Ivan _worked _with him, went to school with him, hell, if they met on the street! Any of those scenarios would have been just fine with him. But _patient _and _orderly _screamed of abuse and a law-suit. Dr. Wong's reaction was the confusing one. He said he didn't care as long as no one got hurt, right? How could he not care? Ivan was his patient, and though he probably knew him better than anyone, Toris wasn't sure if he trusted that judgment…

For the first time, Toris had no idea what was the right thing to do for anyone. When he was with Ivan, he felt nothing but confused. His perfect morals were flawed, and he began to feel like he was somehow twisted into someone else. Someone more honest with himself, and more self-serving. After all, was it anything but selfish for him to want to be with this man? This wounded and unstable Russian? He looked down at his right wrist thoughtfully, his other hand setting over the splint. He could seriously get hurt here. The door opened behind him suddenly, and Toris spun around with a shout. The person in the doorway jumped back,

"Aah! What the bloody—!"

"Ahh! D-Dr. Kirkland!" Toris covered his mouth with his left hand.

"Stop shouting and calm down! Bloody hell!" Arthur threw up his hands. Toris gave a sheepish smile,

"I-I'm sorry, you startled me." He said quietly. The Englishman sighed, running his hand through his unkempt hair.

"I only came to tell you to head to the laundry room. The patients are heading down there after they receive their pills. Everyone else was busy and I was in the area, so I decided to tell you myself." He shook his head. "Maybe you should take a moment to calm down."

"Oh, no I'm fine, really! I was just lost in thought is all. I promise I'm good to go!" Toris smiled easier now, closing his locker door and turning to face the doctor.

"Alright then, get going. Honestly." The other continued to mutter as Toris passed him, his face a bit red. He hadn't realized he'd made himself so jumpy with his thoughts, and of all people for it to be Arthur! The head of the institution had to have a bad idea about him by now. First with the medicine incident, then getting himself hurt, and now he came off as easily spooked. None of those were very good traits as an orderly… When Toris reached the safe room Brad was standing outside of it by the hallway, waving his hand.

"Alright everyone, if you've taken your pills then follow me! It's laundry day!" There was an assortment of comments and groans from the patients, but they all moved towards either the safe room or the hallway. Now that Arthur was back, Brad seemed to be in a sour mood lately. He no longer had the 'supervisor' authority, and he seemed rather bitter about it. "What are you standing in there for Toris, walk them down there!" He called suddenly, and Toris blinked.

"Right." He nodded, stepping out of the safe room. Lack of power didn't mean he'd stopped acting like he ran everything, it seems. Trying to ignore the Russian's smile which still followed him, he moved on. Down the hallway he went, catching up with the patients waiting by the stairs. Alfred was prodding the card port and pretending to run an invisible card, then acting confused when it didn't open. Gilbert laughed and Lovino glared, moving aside to let Toris through.

"Stop that idiot." Lovino muttered. Toris ran his card through, opening the door. Alfred rushed past him, causing the orderly to frown.

"Be careful Alfred, please don't run!" But the golden-haired patient was already one level down, and he sighed as he let more patients through. "Ah, Lovino, your brother's not here today?" He asked. The Italian frowned even more.

"He's got work." He said shortly, and Gilbert grinned.

"Yeah, with my brother. Wonder what _they _could be doing." He said as he stepped into the doorway.

"Fuck you, Gilbert!" Lovino stepped forward, giving the pale-haired man a push.

"H-hey, stop!" Toris stepped between them. "Don't push on the stairs, Lovino!" He warned, and Lovino turned his glare on the orderly. Toris winced, remembering that this patient could be violent. But the Italian only muttered _che, _and stepped back. The brunette breathed a sigh of relief, waving his hand. "Go on Gilbert. Please behave yourself until I get down there." He pleaded. Gilbert flashed a smile that was not at all comforting, bounding off down the stairs and bumping into several people already on them. "Gil…!" He was already out of sight before he could finish, and he gave a groan. The last thing he needed was for someone to get injured on his watch. That would just complete the lack of trust Arthur had in his abilities.

Lovino went down after him, and that was the end of the patients for now. Closing the door behind him, he headed down. The same gray walls and yellowish washers and dryers greeted him. The last time he had seen this room was with Elizaveta, and it seemed even smaller with more people in it. Most of the patients were already folding the laundry piled onto the tables. Sheets, pillowcases, and various other items of mutual use around the institution. He'd been told their clothing and any personal items were to be washed by the orderlies afterwards, in order to keep them from stealing or damaging each other's things.

Alfred waved his hand in greeting, beckoning Toris over. The orderly moved over to his side, frowning as he picked up a pillowcase. "You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself…" Toris muttered. Al only shrugged, setting his folded blanket in his pile.

"I'm not that clumsy! Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you." His voice was light as usual, but his smile faded as he glanced to the brunette. Toris blinked.

"A-alright. Of course, you can talk to me." He said with a slight smile. Alfred smiled back, patting Toris on the back with a heavy hand. The orderly coughed, wincing slightly.

"I know I can talk to you, that's why I like you Toris." He explained. A few more patients came in to the laundry room, let in by someone upstairs. With them was Jeff, who stood over by the wall, arms crossed. "Look, Toris…" Al frowned, seeming to debate how to begin. Toris waited patiently for him to decide, lifting up a sheet. They both grabbed the ends of it, folding it in half long-ways. "Is he bothering you?" He asked finally. Toris looked up as they brought the corners together in the middle.

"Who?" He asked.

"The Commie. I mean, Ivan." Toris' hands nearly fumbled. He made up for it quickly with a small laugh.

"Not really." He said with a tense smile. But Alfred wasn't convinced, and he frowned.

"I mean it. I've known him for a little over a year, since I've come here on and off. He's always hurting people, not to mention himself, and manipulating everyone into getting what he wants. I've seen him do it." The golden-haired patient set aside their folded sheet, grabbing another one. Toris took the other end of it, swallowing.

"It's fine. He needs help too, you know. I can't just abandon someone just because they're difficult. It's my job to be the one who doesn't turn away." Toris explained. Alfred gave a slight smile.

"That's not how the others see it. You sound more like a doctor than an orderly." He said, bringing the corners together again. Toris smiled a bit easier.

"I hope to be one someday. And I don't care what the others think. To them this is just a job to get paid for. They don't see you patients as people, more like animals in a zoo." He was frowning soon enough, his motions in folding a pillowcase abrupt. Alfred grinned.

"Well I guess some of us _do _bite." He joked, and Toris had to laugh. He caught sight of Ivan coming in out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled to him. The Russian smiled back, but it soon turned into a frown when he saw Alfred there. He passed the two of them with his chin held high, and Toris sighed. "He's pouting. He'll get your attention that way. You're too soft, Toris." Alfred sighed, and Toris frowned.

"I call it being nice. If you were upset I would try and cheer you up too, you know." He corrected, setting aside another pillowcase. Alfred waved his hand.

"Yeah, but I would never hurt you." He brought up, raising one eyebrow. Toris shook his head, speaking in a lower voice so as not to be overheard. Ivan had stopped at the end of the folding table, and a few patients had moved away from him.

"This was an accident, Alfred. He didn't mean to hurt me. You should have seen his reaction… He hated himself for it." He frowned as he remembered. Those words afterwards made a bit more sense now that he knew a little about the Russian's past. Mistakes weren't taken very lightly with a father like that, Toris knew. Alfred shook his head, wrapping his arm around Toris' shoulders suddenly.

"Even if he didn't mean it, he'll do it again." He said quietly. "I'll show you."

"_Adeen,_" came the voice from the end of the table. The both of them looked over to Ivan, who took a breath. "_Dva… tri_…" Toris wanted to smile, but his attention was stolen as Alfred hugged him tighter, grinning as he kissed his temple.

"H-hey, Alfred…!" He sat his hand on the other man's chest. Ivan paused, taking another deep breath.

"_Adeen,_" Ivan started again, clearly more irritated. "_Dva. Tri._" Alfred suddenly laughed.

"Did you hear that? He lost count!" He teased. Ivan dropped his sheet to the table, taking a step over to them.

"Alfred, that's _enough_!" Toris spoke up before the Russian could take another step. He pushed at Al's chest so that he could step away, frowning at him. "Of course he'll get upset if you _provoke _him, that doesn't prove anything! I understand that you're worried and thank you, but please, I can handle myself. Now I'll have to go and calm him down, so please continue folding." The orderly finished calmly, and Alfred pouted.

"He'll ruin you." He complained. Toris shook his head.

"Not likely." He said confidently, heading off towards the end of the table. Ivan was still wearing an unhappy expression when he came near, picking up a sheet. Jeff's voice cut him off just before he spoke, calling from the other side of the room.

"You don't have to help them you know!" He called. Toris frowned.

"I like getting paid for _work, _Jeff!" He shouted back over, before turning to Ivan again. This time it was the Russian who cut him off.

"I counted." He said sullenly. Toris nodded.

"I know. I'm glad you did." He said with a smile, but Ivan frowned.

"It didn't work." He argued, and the orderly sighed.

"That was because he continued to provoke you. Normally that shouldn't happen. If you just count to ten, and take deep breaths… Usually you should feel yourself getting calmer." Toris explained, keeping his smile. Ivan muttered under his breath, but he couldn't ignore that smile forever. Violet eyes glanced over, and he reached up to cover his mouth with his scarf. "You didn't come over. I'm proud of you." He changed course, and this time Ivan shrugged.

"You don't like Alfred." He said simply. Now Toris looked confused.

"I like him just fine, Ivan. He's a good person you know, even if he causes trouble. He just wants the attention, I think." The Lithuanian explained, but Ivan shook his head.

"You don't like him better than you like me." He reasoned.

"I don't play favorites, Ivan…"

"_Da, _but you like me differently." He looked to Toris now, violet eyes somehow hinting at something. The orderly flushed a bit, looking back to his folding.

"I can't say I… feel _nothing _for you." He said off hand. Ivan gave a gasp,

"Uwah, Toris is cruel!" He teased. Still the brunette looked offended, but before he could protest the Russian continued. "I bet you would say the same thing to Alfred if he asked."

"No, Alfred is a friend." Toris said with a frown. Ivan raised one eyebrow.

"Then… I am more than a friend to you?" He asked excitedly. Toris blushed again, realizing how it sounded. And he couldn't really argue that point right now, so he gave a huff of breath.

"You're so persistent. Please continue folding." He said shortly, setting down a folded sheet and walking past the smiling Russian.

* * *

Thankfully for Toris, the rest of laundry duty went peacefully. He talked to a few of the patients he'd gotten to know, and Ivan behaved himself. His jealousy seemed calmed not that he thought that Toris liked him back. Well, maybe thought wasn't the right word… He _knew _that Toris was considering his offer somehow, and it was weighing on the brunette. He could barely think at this rate, so he found himself keeping busy by helping them instead of worrying about it. When the hour and a half was over at last, everyone piled the folded sheets and pillowcases into large baskets, carrying them upstairs to the large storage closet.

Toris stood just inside of it as they came past, setting the baskets down on top of each other and going back out to the common room for a bit of free time before their other activities. The door was propped open with another basket, and the Lithuanian orderly was putting away the clean laundry in their places on the metal shelves. Alfred saw fit to give him a high five as before he rushed back out of the room, and Lovino nearly dropped the basket onto his foot. Gilbert said Fritz said he did a good job (helping him) fold laundry, saluting him before he headed out. Toris was smiling as he put up the next sheet, when suddenly there was a _click _behind him. He spun around to find the door closed, Ivan grinning with his handle on the door. "I-Ivan, what…" He frowned, pressing his back to the shelf suddenly. The Russian seemed to be shaking slightly.

"I hate closets." He said quietly. The orderly frowned,

"Then why did you…?" He trailed off as Ivan stepped towards him.

"Because I wanted my kiss." He said simply, swallowing. It was the most nervous that Toris had ever seen him, and though his face flushed hot he was concerned.

"N-now?"

"We're alone…" One hand pressed to the shelves beside the brunette, and he leaned down slowly. "_Help me…_" He whispered, taking Toris' good hand with his free one and pressing it to his chest. The blond's heart was racing, and he _was_ trembling slightly. He was terrified! He really disliked the closet that much?_e_

"I… don't think… we should…" But their lips brushed, Ivan's shuddering breath falling out between them. He could smell the Russian's scent from this close. Not a soft scent like a woman, but that almost spicy kind of light musk of a man. He'd noticed it during their first kiss, but right now it overwhelmed him. "_Ivan_…" He whispered, closing his eyes as he pressed in for the kiss. Ivan pressed back at once, forcefully and eagerly. "_Mmh…_" Fingers curled against the taller man's chest in protest, but Ivan was already pulling back a little. His tongue was slick and wet against the orderly's lower lip, and Toris felt a small thrill run through his system.

Opening his eyes half-way, he met the Russian's narrow violet eyes. His breath was stolen by that gaze, lips parting. This time his tongue met the blond's when it came inside, sliding slickly against one another. This _connection, _it felt so _good… _Like the weight was lifted off of his chest all at once, leaving him weightless and most of all… not alone. In this moment he didn't question why it had to be Ivan that was filling this void, it simply _was. _Someone who needed him, wanted him, enough to change his ways. Enough to face something so obviously frightening for a single kiss… Ivan's fingers slid into his hair, and he groaned as they shared one deep breath.

_Click. _The two parted ways in an instant, Ivan turning towards the door. The cover gave Toris the time to smooth his hair back into place and catch his breath before the door was even all the way open. "Ah, Ivan!" Sarah's voice said in surprise. "What are you doing in here?"

"Harassing Toris." The Russian admitted quite openly. Only the brunette noticed his hands still trembling. Toris stepped out from behind him, giving a sigh as if to say, 'what else would he be doing'. Sarah laughed,

"Well get out here. You're not supposed to be in there." She said, stepping to the side. Ivan sighed, heading for the open door with relief. He waved over his shoulder to Toris,

"Bye-bye, Toris." He said lightly, as if nothing had happened. Toris only waved, taking a deep breath as Sarah propped the door open again. Toris turned his back to it, gripping the shelving as he tried to stop himself from shaking, as if he had picked up Ivan's fear. That was dangerous… And worst of all, he could no longer deny it. He liked Ivan… He _really_ liked him. It had been eight days since that man had come in to his life, and he was sure of it. Not even his sprained wrist could change his mind, make him think logically. He no longer believed that he was taking advantage of the Russian however. Not after he had felt that heart racing underneath his hand. His own had been beating just as fast, for an entirely different reason.

_Now, _things were complicated…

* * *

It wasn't an hour later when Jeff approached Ivan, sitting in his usual corner. The Russian eyed the man warily; he didn't like the orderlies who often were the ones to bring him to the small, cold isolation rooms. It was even worse when he held out his hand and said simply: "Scarf." Ivan gripped it tightly, covering his nose with it as he shook his head. "Now, Ivan. It needs to be washed. It's still got some mud on it from yesterday." He reached for it and Ivan pulled back.

"He's not gonna let you have it." Alfred said from a couch, hanging over the side of it to watch. "He never takes that thing off."

"Can it Alfred." Jeff snapped, reaching again. Ivan batted his hand away.

"It's Mr. Jones to you!" Al shot back, and Jeff glared over his shoulder.

"Will you shut up?"

"Ah, there he goes." The American pointed with a grin. Ivan had gotten up from his seat, hurrying off towards the bedroom hallways. Toris stepped out of the closet then, closing the door as he saw the small commotion.

"Toris, catch him!" Jeff called, and the brunette saw Ivan darting for his room. He gave the redhead a look of doubt, but he called after him anyway.

"Ivan wait!" To his surprise, the Russian stopped. He looked back over his shoulder, frowning in apparent worry. "What's going on?" He asked, heading down the hall. Ivan shifted his feet a bit, playing with the end of his scarf.

"They want to take it." He murmured, glancing over Toris' head.

"We have to wash it." Jeff spoke up with an irritated sigh. "Usually Dr. Wong takes it, but he's got the next class to teach." Ivan gave Toris a pleading look, begging him to help. But instead the orderly with the innocent expression only held out his hand.

"Can… _I _wash it?" He asked. Ivan felt his heart cruelly held in that open palm, and he gave a small squeak of protest as he gripped the scarf. That wasn't fair! He trusted Toris; enough to see his terrible body and not make a comment. But with his scarf… Toris bit his lower lip when the Russian hesitated, and the blond could see his confidence wavering.

"Ah…" He spoke up. Why did he have to give him that expression? "You already gave me my reward…" He murmured quietly into his scarf. Toris blushed, but thankfully Jeff hadn't heard.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be good." The Lithuanian said with a frown. Ivan shuffled his feet, trying to break his gaze with those green eyes.

"Ah… Will you give me another one?" He asked, smiling behind his scarf.

"D-don't push your luck!" Toris huffed, but he was blushing more. Uh-oh, he'd pushed him into his stubborn corner. Still he smiled slightly, placing the end of his scarf into that waiting hand.

"Promise," He said more seriously, "That you won't leave it. You'll stay there while it washes and dries, and then bring it back to me!" Jeff scoffed,

"Oh come on!" He muttered, tossing up his hands. But Toris nodded.

"I promise." He said with a firm nod. Slowly Ivan unwound his precious scarf, placing it into Toris' hand. His neck felt naked now, and he reached back to cover the part of his burn scar that could be seen on the right side of the back of his neck. "I'll hurry." Toris said, glancing back to Jeff. "It's alright?"

"Yeah, whatever. Just go on." He waved his hand. "Ivan, you have life skills now. Don't keep Dr. Wong waiting." He turned and walked away, leaving the two alone. Ivan rubbed at his neck, breaking Toris' gaze at last to walk past him.

Life skills was a joke. Nothing but a small group of patients deemed 'fit' for outside life, sitting through a lecture on what was acceptable and what wasn't. Yao always came up with the most ridiculous scenario's, and they decided how to handle them. For each of them it was different, based on their own social issues. Lovino always had trouble running into things not going as expected, and Gilbert always tried to 'ask Fritz' for his advice. That always sent the Italian cursing and the German tossing over his chair when the doctor told him once again that Fritz was not acceptable as an answer.

As for Ivan, he could answer things perfectly, and with a smile. He knew all of these things… He'd been seventeen when he'd been put in here. He had all the schooling he'd needed until then, and he knew _exactly _how he was supposed to act. What it didn't mean was that he would actually do the things he said, and Yao knew it. He would press and press his weaknesses, until finally the Russian would become irritated. Today was even worse. Without his scarf to hide behind, he felt exposed. He rubbed at his neck whenever he felt nervous, which was often. He didn't want to be looked at right now, so when it was his turn, he blanked. "I don't know." Was his short answer, which Yao didn't want to accept. When pressed, the Russian had stood up and shouted out something in Russian, to which the doctor didn't flinch. He sighed, waving his hand.

"Fine. I understand. Sit down!" Yao didn't speak much Russian, but he knew those words. "Next, Alfred…" He turned to the American, prattling off another problem. Alfred knew the answers too, but he always liked to rile the Asian doctor up. He's say something like, 'But I'm a Hero, I don't deal with these things!'

Ivan was glad to have the attention away from himself as everyone laughed at Alfred's answers, and at Dr. Wong's frustration. He glanced over to the window and rubbed his neck, his other hand playing with the collar of his shirt.

* * *

Toris leaned against the wall of the laundry room, listening to the machines run. It was a little spooky down here alone… Sometimes he could hear things from above. Footsteps, the sound of pipes, or even some voices. Or maybe he was imagining the voices…? He swallowed, then jumped when he heard the door from the stairway close. Quick footsteps came down the stairs, and Brad came in through the doorway. He breathed a sigh of relief, even as the man gave him an annoyed expression.

"Come on," The other orderly said, setting down a basket in front of a dryer. He opened it, pulling the clothing out. "Grab a basket and fill it up, we need to take them up." Toris blinked.

"But I can't leave. I have to watch…"

"Damn it, just help me out or Arthur's gonna be pissed if it's not done by dinner!" Toris frowned at the other man for a moment, trying to debate. The last thing that he needed was another reason for Arthur not to like him, but breaking Ivan's trust was also bad… Ivan was in a class though, right? Swallowing, he grabbed a basket. Once it was full he glanced to the dryer that Ivan's scarf was in. He'd put it in with the load about ten minutes ago, so it still had a while to go… Biting his lip, he lifted the basket he'd filled. "About time." Brad quipped, and Toris' patience was growing short with the man. Still, he would rather keep peace than start something over it…

The two head up the stairs, coming out into the hall and heading for the rooms. Michael came out from around the corner, holding up his hands for the basket. Toris handed it over, turning his back to head back to the laundry room. "Toris?" The orderly's blood ran cold when he heard that familiar voice. He turned around slowly, expression guilty.

* * *

"I-Ivan…"

"My scarf?" The Russian asked, frowning in question as his eyes searched the brunette's person. He didn't understand… where was it? Toris was worthy of his trust! The Lithuanian swallowed,

"I'm sorry Ivan, they needed me to…"

"You don't have it." Ivan said in realization, stepping forward. His hands curled into fists, but his expression was still confused. "I told you to watch it! Who knows where it is now! I _trusted_ you!" He accused. Toris winced.

"I-I know where it is, it's in the dryer!" He pleaded, holding up his hands in defense just as Ivan started to raise his. Violet eyes locked in on that splint. No, no he couldn't hurt him again! If he hurt Toris again he'd lose him!

"Hey!" Jeff called from the hallway. "Back the fuck off, Red!" Ivan frowned down the hallway at the man. What business was this of _his_? He was having a conversation with _Toris._ Looking back to the brunette, he recognized fear in those eyes, as well as pain. He was hurt by Ivan's reaction, but that wasn't right! Ivan was the one who was hurt! He'd trusted the Lithuanian with a simple task! He reached for Toris' shoulder, but Jeff's voice stopped him. "Ivan!" He shouted threateningly.

"Ivan please, don't." Toris said, his expression worried. "You'll get in trouble, and then I might not be able to bring you the scarf. I _swear _I'll bring it to you. Alright?" He swallowed. Ivan frowned as if he didn't understand, but he took a step back. _It's alright, _he thought, _Toris isn't lying. He wouldn't lie. He's too good for that._ Taking a deep breath, the Russian reached for his own neck. Pausing, he rubbed the back instead.

"_A-Adeen… dva…_"

"What's the matter, Ivan?" A voice came from the side. Dr. Carriedo stepped up beside the two. "_Oooh,_" He said with a disarming grin. "A lover's spat?" He teased. Toris frowned, but Ivan sulked.

"_Da,_" He said quickly. Antonio laughed as Toris flustered.

"It's alright Jeff!" The Spaniard called. He patted Ivan's back. "Come on Ivan, we have music study now! I brought my guitar today. You can help me sing!" Ivan's gaze fell on the tan-skinned doctor, still sulking, though he was interested. He did love music…

"…_Da._" He murmured.

"Great! We'll be in room 302, Toris." Antonio said, patting Toris on the shoulder as well. The orderly nodded, though he rubbed at the corner of his eye. Ivan turned away. He didn't want to see any tears; _he _was the one who was upset.

* * *

Toris felt horrible. He couldn't get that expression out of his head. That lost and confused look. Ivan had completely trusted him, so much that he had been honestly shocked when Toris had let him down. That damn Brad, he should have told him to fuck off! …As if he could do something like that. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He really did need to work on saying no more often… He'd always had trouble with that. It was why he had pushy friends like Feliks, who could talk him in to almost anything, even if it ended up with him in trouble. And he considered this trouble…

Yao probably would have spoken his case if Arthur was upset, right? He'd have said, it was Ivan's request? Should he have just told Brad no? He was sure the older orderly would have just disliked him more, but he didn't really care what that man thought of him anyway. He'd chosen wrong after all… With a sigh, he heard the dryer finally come to a stop. Stepping over to it, he emptied the contents into a basket. Carrying it up stairs, he handed it over to Jeff after retrieving Ivan's scarf.

It was an old scarf, he could tell that by the look of it. It was durable, that much he could tell from the feel. It also seemed to be hand-made, but almost professionally. In the right corner there were initials embroidered: И.Б. in a fancy script. In Cyrillic it was I.B., Ivan's initials. Biting his lower lip, he stepped into the room that Antonio had mentioned. He spotted Ivan easily, sitting in the far corner of the room, close to the window. Antonio winked to Toris, but he continued singing his song. Ivan only glanced over for a moment before looking outside again. As Toris drew close, he looked back again. Holding out the scarf, the orderly found it taken quickly, violet eyes searching every inch of it quickly. He got to the end of it, thumb tracing over the initials there fondly. Wrapping it around his neck, he covered his face up to his nose quickly, taking a deep breath. Toris bowed his head slightly.

"Sorry again." He said, just loud enough for Ivan to hear him over the music. He turned his back, heading quickly for the door. Alfred reached out as he passed, brushing his hand with his own and smiling. Toris offered a smile back, heading through the door.

* * *

Dinner came and went, and everyone was settling down for the evening. Toris went about his work with a sullen expression, though no one asked any questions. Ivan was quiet as well, and by now it had gotten around about the scarf. The other orderlies all knew how much it meant to the Russian, though no one seemed to actually _care. _Accept for maybe Sarah, but even she kept quiet about it. Toris was especially troubled right now. He'd more than just betrayed Ivan's trust, it seemed. He felt silly for letting his emotions get so carried away. He'd thought… he'd thought that earlier, in the closet… Well, he thought it had meant more than it obviously had. To think he'd actually considered… No, that he'd _admitted _to himself that he liked Ivan.

The Russian's moods were fickle. In one moment he was fighting his fears for a kiss, and in the next he seemed completely shut off over a scarf. Toris didn't even know where that left him on the priority scale. Above fear and below an inanimate object in worth. Maybe he was fooling himself, leaving his heart in the hands of a patient. Toris hefted the last basket of laundry into his arms, heading up stairs. It hadn't all gotten done by dinner as hoped, but that was due to the second level having brought down a few loads. On top of his pile was Ivan's blanket. He remembered covering him with it on the first day he'd met him, when he'd seen him shut off completely.

He glanced to the right, in to the common room, before he headed down the hall to the bedrooms. Most the patients were gathered to watch another movie, one of Alfred's choosing of course. He sighed as he came to Ivan's door, which was still open. Stepping inside, he flipped on the light. Violet eyes looked up, and Toris jumped back. "_Aah_! I-Ivan, you scared me! I thought you were with the others watching a movie…" His hands gripped the basket, and he set it down slowly. "I brought your blanket…" He said with a slight smile. Ivan stayed seated on his bed, turning his eyes away slowly. Toris took a deep breath, fighting tears again.

"Alright." He snapped suddenly, drawing back that gaze. "Fine, I get it." He picked up the blanket, tossing it onto the bed. "I broke your trust. But I said I was sorry! If this is how you want to be, then I know for sure what my answer to your question will be when you ask it again!" He lifted the basket again, eyes stinging as he turned his back. "_Ah_!" He gave a short cry as a solid body pressed up against his back, Ivan's arms slipping underneath his own to wrap around his waist. "I-Ivan…!"

"_Don't leave me…_" Came the whisper in his ear, tickling his hair. The Russian's arms tightened, pulling him back against that slightly soft body. "_Please don't leave me… No matter what I say, no matter what I do…_" Ivan sniffed. "_I-I'm uncomfortable without my scarf…" _He explained, voice strained. "_Ya tebya lyublyu, Toris… My feelings haven't changed_!"

Toris felt a floodgate break inside of him, relief spreading through his system so fast that he felt dizziness sweep over him. He should have been happy when he thought that Ivan wasn't going to peruse him anymore! The complications of having a relationship with a patient were unimaginable. He leaned back against that tall body, sighing deeply. "It's alright, Ivan. I understand. But… I'm insecure sometimes too…" His face felt hot as he admitted it. "It hurts… when you ignore me like that."

"_I'll never leave Toris… Even if he hates me someday._" Ivan nuzzled the orderly's cheek. Toris shook his head slightly.

"I'll never hate you. Now… l-let me go, I have work to do." He wiggled a bit in that grasp.

"A kiss."

"_Ivan_!" Toris whispered in warning.

"_Because we fought_!" Ivan whispered back, pouting. He released the brunette, who turned to face him with the basket between them.

"F-fine…" He blushed, leaning up and forward. "But a quick one…" Their lips touched, warm and soft. It was a brief, sweet kiss, and Ivan was smiling when they parted.

"_Ya tebya…_"

"I-I know…!" Toris flustered, turning his back. Ivan chuckled, watching him go.

* * *

That night, Ivan dreamed again.

He was stuck in that same dark, enclosed space as before. The air was thin, and he was panting heavily as he pressed at the walls around him. He couldn't see anything but the light under the door, and even that was faint. His own breath was loud in his ears, and it was getting hot.

But then, there was a touch against his leg. Something came to rest against his knee, and another brushed his hair. Looking up, he couldn't see what—or who was touching him. But it wasn't the man he feared… These hands were soft, gentle… Warm. Not cold and hard like the others. Soft lips touched his forehead, and they brought a coolness through this terrible heat. The light from under the door was brighter, and he could make out those green eyes above his own. "_Ivan…_" That soft voice whispered.

He was no longer trapped alone.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N

Starting to catch up to the plotline I've had planned for a while now!

I've been thinking of putting all this on an LJ journal, complete with the art that Arafel is doing (and has done) for it. Would anyone from here be interested in following there?

* * *

l

l

As Toris lay in bed that Tuesday morning, waiting for his alarm to go off, he thought. Thought that he wouldn't have to lay in bed thinking, when he should be sleeping, if he wasn't an orderly. If he had met Ivan any other way, this wouldn't be such an issue. Well, it would be difficult to date a patient, but Ivan was an intermediate as of right now. He was a Level One, those patients whom society had not yet abandoned. Though he had been in the institution for three years so far, he was still in therapy to eventually being released out into the world. He had freedoms that the patients in Level Two didn't. Mainly, he could be unsupervised in his free time, and he was allowed to go outside. Also, he was allowed to date.

But not an orderly. That was a conflict of interests, and it left too much room for abuse. Toris could very well understand the reason behind such a rule. It would be easy for an orderly or a doctor to press their authority onto a patient in order to obtain sexual favors. However he didn't quite know the rule about patients being the ones to push for something physical… It wasn't as if Ivan had taken things any further than kissing… yet. Toris had no idea when or if he would try and move things along. After all, Ivan was a (physically) healthy man of 24! Then again with the medication that he was on, it would be hard to have those kinds of urges. A semi-convenient side effect right now.

And of course there was the matter of knowing one another. Though he had been much younger, Ivan was said to have burned down his house—with his father inside! Now, knowing of the Russian's past, Toris could _almost _understand why he would do it. But that didn't make up for murder—accidental or not. Toris knew a lot about Ivan, he could read his file and look up his past as much as was allowed. Ivan on the other hand knew almost nothing about the orderly. He could ask or the Lithuanian could tell, but Toris was more than a little uncomfortable with sharing his past. He knew it wasn't fair, but what could he do about it? Ivan's reputation of being manipulative was intimidating, and the last thing he wanted was for some of his more sensitive secrets to be exploited. The Institution was a _work place, _not somewhere to share everything about yourself.

The alarm sounded beside him and he jumped, sitting up to turn it off. Sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair, he glanced behind him to the picture on his wall. Ivan's matryoshka painting, all of them with their fanciful creatures and smiling faces. All except for the last doll, the smallest. It was left blank, empty… He still didn't know what it meant. Maybe if he could figure out, he might actually get a step closer to understanding the Russian. Or, it could be that it held no particular meaning at all. There was no way of knowing for sure, as Ivan sure wasn't telling.

* * *

Soon enough Toris arrived at work, and it was business as usual. Alfred was sitting on the couch, glaring at the orderlies handing out pills and cups of water. It was better than stealing them again, the brunette supposed. Ivan sat by himself in the corner as usual, though he pulled down his scarf to smile when Toris spotted him. The smile was infectious, and the orderly was smiling back as he turned to head for the safe room. No angry doctors, no new faces, no bad news from the gossip-loving Sarah. Who by the way, looked a little upset over something. Toris stopped, frowning a little in worry. "What's wrong?" He asked her quietly. Michael, putting pills into cups, gave a laugh.

"She got dumped."

"I did _not _get dumped! We weren't even dating or anything, he was just a friend." Sarah shot back.

"Yeah, with benefits." The other orderly laughed again. He glanced to the brunette. "You know the night shift, Heracles?"

"Ah, I've met him once…" Toris nodded.

"I asked him what he thought about going steady, and do you know what he said?" Sarah jumped in again, and before Toris could even respond she continued. "He said 'Hm', and turned the page on his Homo book or whatever!" Toris blinked.

"…You mean Homer? The Greek poet?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. Michael was laughing, and the sandy-blond glared.

"Who cares! It was insensitive, like he didn't even care that I was in the same room as him! And after we…" Her face flushed, and Toris cleared his throat.

"I should go and put my things away!" He said with a tense smile, and she nodded her head.

"Yes, right, I have medication to hand out!" She agreed, waving her hand as Toris headed off. He entered the break room with a slight sigh, heading for the lockers. Looks like there was something new every day, if not with the patients then with the staff. While he supposed any job would have gossip amongst the employees it didn't mean that he wanted to be a part of it. Lord knew what they would have to say about him if he told them anything.

* * *

When Toris came back out of the break room he spotted Antonio. In front of him was Yao, talking animatedly about something. His hand motions were short and quick, and Toris didn't like the expression on his face. Antonio on the other hand was smiling effortlessly, despite Dr. Wong's irritated expression. Toris wished he could smile that easily in a situation like that. As he left the safe room Yao paused, dark eyes shifting over to the brunette who nearly froze in his tracks. The Asian sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Fine," He said to the Spaniard, frowning. "But don't say I didn't warn you!" He looked back to Dr. Carriedo. Antonio nodded.

"_Sí, sí_!" He said with his casual smile. Yao frowned, but he didn't press his issue further, turning on his heel and heading for the door leading upstairs, to the offices. Toris approached the friendly doctor now, tying his hair back as he did.

"May I ask?" He said curiously. The doctor turned his smile onto the orderly, giving a small shrug.

"Ivan suddenly wanted to join group therapy. Yao thinks it's a bad idea, but I said to give him a chance. He's been in solo-therapy for almost two years, I think it would be good to get him back into the group setting. He has to learn to get along with others some time, right?" Antonio put his hands into the pockets of his white coat. Toris smiled, nodding.

"I agree." Though he wondered what had changed the Russian's mind. Yao had said that Ivan was disruptive in group therapy hadn't he? He felt hopeful though. If Ivan learned to get along with others, it would mean a step in the direction of recovery.

* * *

When Toris and Antonio reached the therapy room they found several patients waiting for them. Lovino sat slumped in his chair, picking at his nails, and Alfred was sitting backwards in his, arms crossed over the back of it and chin resting on them. Gilbert slipped into the room, collapsing into his chair with a smile next to him at an empty seat. Alfred grinned, moving to stand when Antonio held up his hand. "Ah-ah!" He warned, and the golden-haired patient sat down with an unhappy look on his face. Toris sighed as he wandered over to a table, hopping up to sit on the edge of it so that he could watch everyone. Jeff came in with a few other patients, including Ivan. The Russian held his scarf up over his nose, though his eyes were smiling. He chose a seat near Alfred, if only so he could see Toris.

After a few moments everyone seemed to be gathered, and Antonio clapped his hands for attention. "Alright everyone!" He said with a smile, "Who wants to start sharing?" Ivan's hand came half-way up, though his eyes never left the Lithuanian. "Alright Ivan! It's been a long time since you've shared so why don't you start off with your introduction!"

"_Da,_" Ivan said, muffled through his scarf.

"Ah, please pull down the scarf first buddy." Antonio waved his hand in a motion of pulling it down. Ivan frowned for a moment, but he slowly lowered his hand to reveal his face. "Good! Now go ahead." The Russian nodded, and he was smiling visibly now.

"_My name is Ivan. I am twenty-four years old._" He started, but Alfred spoke up loudly.

"Hey, _hey, _he's speaking Commie, Doc!" He stood up, pointing at Ivan. Antonio waved both hands in a downward motion.

"Sit down Alfred, it's alright. Ivan, why don't you try speaking English for us?" The Spaniard asked, rubbing the back of his head. Violet eyes narrowed even more in amusement, his gaze never leaving the brunette sitting on the table.

"_I was born in Russia._" He continued. Alfred made to speak up, but Antonio was quicker.

"Now now, if he wants to share in Russian… I guess it's alright." He gave a defeated shrug and Gilbert laughed. Lovino crossed his arms, muttering to himself. Alfred looked rather unhappy, looking like he wanted to say something else. Finally he crossed his arms as well, giving a loud huff.

"_Fine._" He muttered.

"_My father was unkind._" Ivan said then, though his smile didn't falter. "_He hit my dear mother, and he threatened my sisters. He hit me, too._" By this time Antonio had followed the Russian's gaze to Toris, taking note of the orderly's suddenly sad expression. "_Often days I was black and blue. I went to school, and I learned. But I was never good enough. The older I got the worse that it became. Mother was getting ill, and father turned all his attentions on me and my sisters._" Alfred was giving impatient sighs, but they were ignored. Toris was frowning, sitting uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced to Antonio, who was watching him, biting his lip as he looked back to Ivan. "_Mother died. He killed her, slowly. He stole her beauty and her will to live. The music played while I was all alone in the dark. I couldn't see… I could only hear. I couldn't do anything else. The fire came to take it all away. I wanted it to. I was happy. And then I was locked away, and my sisters were free._" He fell quiet, and so did everyone else. Green eyes turned away, and Ivan sat back in his chair, covering his nose with his scarf again. "I'm finished!" He announced.

Toris was left chewing on his lower lip, trying not to meet those prying eyes. Ivan's story gave him the chills for more than one reason. For one, there was the comparison… And for two, Ivan had spoken of the fire. It was something that Toris desperately wanted to know about, considering his growing feelings for the Russian. While he had known about the abuse from Yao, did Ivan know he knew? Or had he admitted it on his own? Antonio cleared his throat, spreading his hands.

"Alright! So, who wants to go next?" He asked as he glanced around. Gilbert sat up straight, raising his hand and grinning. "Gilbert! Go ahead." The German chuckled.

"_Ich bin _Gilbert! _Ich komme aus Deutschland_!" He announced loudly. Alfred's eyes went wide, and he stood up again, hands on the back of the chair.

"Hey hey hey, he can't do that!"

"If Ivan can do it then so can I!" Gilbert defended, glancing beside him and making another comment in German. Lovino glared at them both, curling his lip slightly.

"_Idioti_!" He cursed, turning his head away.

"That's not fair!" Alfred protested. "I only speak Americanese!" He threw up his hands, falling back into his seat. Gilbert was still rambling on in German, and Lovino was soon shouting at him to shut up. Antonio rose from his seat to wave his hands downwards again, his smile growing tense at last as he tried to talk them down. Ivan sat back and watched it all, lowering his scarf to his chin as Toris glanced back with a frown. So this was what Yao meant when he said that Ivan caused disruptive behavior… The Russian was smiling, as if he truly enjoyed the chaos. When he caught Toris staring however, he seemed to pause.

"Ah," He spoke up as he leaned forward. At that quiet sound and subtle movement, everything seemed to come to a halt. All eyes turned to Ivan, and he obviously enjoyed the attention. "Why doesn't Toris share with us?" He asked with a smile. The Lithuanian's face felt hot suddenly, and he raised his hands as if in defense.

"Wha—me? No, I'm not…" He tried to protest. Unfortunately Alfred perked up.

"Hey, yeah! I wanna hear from him too!" He sat up straight in his chair, smiling. Gilbert and Lovino remained quiet, and there were no complaints from the other patients. Antonio smiled, happy that there was a new line of distraction.

"I think it's a great idea! You're new here, Toris! I share all the time too, you know. Like how when I was little, and I found this teeny tiny baby turtle…" There was a small chorus of groans from the patients, and he pouted somewhat. "Alright, alright." Taking his seat again, he waved his hand to Toris. "Go ahead, Toris." He said with another smile. Toris was chewing his lower lip, looking rather obviously uncomfortable. When he spoke up, his voice was quiet.

"My… My name is Toris." He said.

"Speak up, speak up!" Ivan prompted. Toris frowned, raising his voice.

"My name is Toris. I'm nineteen years old." He tried again.

"Much better." Ivan grinned.

"Same age as me!" Alfred chimed in, and the Russian shot him a glare.

"_Sshh_!" He chastised. Alfred glared back, sticking out his tongue. They both looked back to Toris again quickly, smiling just as quickly. The orderly swallowed.

"I…I was born in Lithuania."

"Where the heck is that?" Alfred frowned.

"If you don't-!" Ivan began to hiss, but Toris stopped him.

"No, it's alright!" He smiled a little. "It's across the Baltic Sea from Sweden. A ways from here." He explained. Alfred slumped a bit.

"Oh." He said simply, though it was clear he had no idea where that was. Toris simply continued.

"I'm here because I'm going to college. I'm studying Psychology, and I hope to be a psychologist some day." He explained. Just as he was getting his confidence up, Ivan budded in.

"What about before?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. Toris faltered, and Antonio glanced to Ivan.

"Now now, he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to, Ivan. You remember the rules of group therapy right?" He smiled, and Ivan covered his mouth with his scarf. Toris frowned again.

"Before I came here I went to school in Lithuania, in the capitol Vilnius. My father wasn't around much because of work, and when he was he usually just drank and slept. I have two younger brothers, and they moved here with me." He smiled a bit then. "We were a pretty typical family, I guess. Ah, that's all…" Alfred clapped his hands and Ivan didn't hide his disappointment.

"Thank you, Toris! Alright now, who wants to go next? In _English _please." Antonio announced, spreading his hands out.

* * *

The rest of the long session was relatively peaceful, though Toris couldn't seem to escape Ivan's piercing gaze. The Russian was frowning suspiciously at him, and the longer that things went on, the more uncomfortable that he became. It was as if Ivan _knew _he was leaving something out—hiding it from everyone else. How could he know any different from what Toris had said? The orderly had never hinted at anything else to him, had he? Slipped up somewhere and given something away? He had no way of knowing how perceptive that Ivan really was. Walking back towards the common room, they were all put on alert by the sound of a shouting voice. Arthur's voice to be specific. There was another voice after his, and Alfred seemed to perk up. Rounding the corner, they could see the two men standing in front of the safe room.

One of them was Arthur of course, and the other was a slightly taller man. His hair was a light blond, hanging in waves to his shoulders, and his chin was stubbly as if he had forgotten to shave. He was wearing nice black slacks and a dark blue silk shirt, and what seemed to be nice black shoes. On his wrist there gleamed a watch, rather expensive looking, and several rings as well. He laughed at Arthur's best frown, and that in and by its self was impressive. But Alfred was nearly jumping up and down, taking off past the orderly in a hurry.

"Mommy!" The golden-haired patient cried out, and the other man turned with a smile. He held out his arms in welcome, but Arthur stepped between them quickly, hands out to keep them apart.

"Oh no you don't!" The Englishman snapped.

"_Oof, _Alfred! I told you a hundred times, it's 'Big Brother'!" The other man scolded playfully. He moved to step around the angry Dr. Kirkland, but he was stopped by one pointing finger.

"You keep your hands off of him, Bonnefoy!" Arthur demanded. The other held up his hands.

"Please, call me Francis at least you old caterpillar! And don't worry; I won't touch something that belongs to you _twice._" He said with a grin. Azure eyes moved over their heads, and the Frenchman gave a smile that was somewhat similar to Alfred's charming smile. "_Oh-ho, _who's this? A new orderly?" At that Arthur glanced over to the hallway, frowning again.

"Toris—"

"Toris?" Francis repeated. The brunette felt an arm wrap around his shoulders from behind, and he was pulled back into a taller, solid body. Looking up, he blinked at the Russian holding him. "_Ooh, bonjour _Ivan!" The Frenchman waved. "I get it, that one's yours?"

"_Da._" Ivan gave a nod, and Toris felt his heart skip a beat.

"Give it a rest, Ivan!" Arthur scolded, and Ivan chuckled. Toris gave a small sigh of relief. Everyone seemed to think the Russian was still just playing… "Francis, go home!"

"But he just got here!" Alfred complained, practically pouting.

"_Non,_" Francis shook his head. "I'm here to check in, I told you!" Alfred cheered but Arthur looked positively livid. He crossed his arms and shook his head.

"This isn't a blasted resort!" He argued. The Frenchman pouted.

"I know that, but Matthew kicked me out again! I have nowhere else to go with my _problem._" He stressed, frowning a little. The American was chuckling, and Arthur seemed to fluster.

"_Idioticy _can't be cured here!" He spat out.

"_Non, non_! My," Francis glanced to the safe room, shooting his smile out towards Sarah. "_Nymph~o~mania._" He drawled, blowing a kiss to the poor girl, who blushed noticeably.

"_This _is why you can't stay!" Arthur growled. Antonio reached the end of the hall by this time, and he smiled brightly.

"Francis! Back again, I see. Trouble at home?" He asked. Francis smiled.

"You see? _Tony _understands." The Frenchman held up his hand. "Besides _cheri, _you don't have a choice, do you?" He grinned, and Toris thought Arthur was going to start steaming in a moment, that face was so red. Hands curled into fists at his sides, he was silent for a moment.

"…_Fine._" He muttered. Pointing his finger again, he added, "But you touch _one _orderly or patient and you're _out_!" He threatened.

"_Oui, oui_!" Francis smiled in triumph.

"Now go get changed! You can't walk around here in those clothes!" Dr. Kirkland ordered. Francis gave a bow, and Alfred rushed in to hug him. The golden-haired patient was actually at least an inch taller than the Frenchman, but the well-dressed man picked him up at the waist anyway, spinning him around.

"Alright, everyone else!" Antonio clapped his hands. "Art activities are going to start soon, so anyone who wants to come should do so!" He waved his hands. "That means you too Alfred! Francis will join us once he's changed, _sí_?"

"_Oui_!" Francis agreed as Alfred detached from him, heading off down the hall in another run, despite Arthur shouting after him to _walk_.

"You too, Toris. If you can get that monkey off your back there." Antonio smiled, and Ivan practically giggled. Toris blushed, just seeming to realize that he was still being held by the Russian. He stepped forward quickly, released by the blond patient.

"C-come on Ivan." He couldn't meet his eyes, but he urged the other to follow. Ivan did so of course, quite happily.

* * *

Ivan was used to saying whatever he liked, no matter how absurd. No one here took him very seriously—no one except for Yao. The Chinese doctor had long ago learned to see through his teasing and down to the core of his statements. Thankfully everyone else was none the wiser, and Yao wasn't up for telling anyone. Sometimes, the other patients caught on. He was quite sure that Alfred knew he was serious about Toris, for example. The American was always sticking his nose into business that wasn't his own. He'd annoyed Ivan on purpose after all! He _had _to know… And Antonio! The doctor had been staring at his love interest while he spoke in Russian. Had he known that the brunette understood it? Probably, the Spaniard _was _a clever one. And well, _of course _Yao knew… that bastard had tried to scare his Lithuanian away!

The Russian was painting again today, it was the only thing he could do. He was no good at drawing, no matter how he tried. Sweeping orange lines with curled ends, he glanced up as the Frenchman came into the class. Ah, _Francis… _He was a good man most of the time, as long as he kept his hands to himself. He hadn't touched the Russian ever since Ivan twisted his wrist badly enough to need a splint for weeks though. That suited him just fine, as he'd rather not have anyone touching him like that. It always bothered him though, and he chewed on the end of his paint brush as he watched him take a seat. Francis had a lover. The nice blond boy who was Alfred's brother, Matthew he had said? At least he thought they were lovers. Whenever the younger man came to visit, the Frenchman couldn't keep his hands off of him. Then again, he couldn't very well keep his hands off _anyone._

Francis had connections, but he didn't know what they were. He always managed to get what he wanted from Arthur in the end, much to the Englishman's dismay. And anything that Arthur disliked, Ivan usually liked out of spite. Setting his brush into the jar of water, he grinned at the Frenchman. "Business was slow?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. Anything to keep the letch's attention from the brunette who was nearing him while walking amongst the other patients.

"_Non, _not at all! Plenty of people who like a little _tweaking._" Francis said as he lifted a charcoal pencil. He set it to the blank piece of paper in front of him, starting to draw. "I just got into a little tiff is all. You know how it is when someone doesn't understand your _needs._" He frowned a little. Ivan had to nod; he _did _understand that… Thankfully Alfred stopped the Lithuanian when he got to him, talking to him. It said a lot that he thought Alfred a better distraction than Francis.

"_Tweaking._" He repeated. Frowning, he reached up to touch his nose. "I still think my nose is just fine."

"Oh, it works wonders for you _cheri_!" Francis agreed, though he grinned as he glanced up. "I was only offering a suggestion, you know. I'd still do a procedure for free, just for you _amour_." His smile didn't work on Ivan, though he did return it coldly.

"_Da, _and I could work on your wrist again." At that the Frenchman gave a nervous chuckle, going back to his artwork. Ivan gave a small huff, glancing back to his own paper. Sprawled across the whiteness was an orange bird with seemingly long feathers. Francis was a plastic surgeon, and a good one judging by the clothing and trinkets that he often wore when he came here. He treated the institution like a spa, coming here whenever he needed a break. And unfortunately he often offered his services to the patients, some of which, like Ivan, who already had issues about their looks. It was illegal to operate on a patient at an institution, so it was nothing but a cruel tease. Francis didn't _mean _it that way, he was trying to be nice, but Ivan hated it.

If he could change something about himself, it wouldn't be his nose. It would be his weight, and his scars… He wouldn't have to hide so much if he didn't have those two things. If he could just get rid of them he could erase the last remnants of that man, couldn't he? It was a far-fetched hope, even if he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What's this?" Toris' voice surprised him, looking up to see the brunette standing beside the Frenchman's chair. He sat up straighter as Francis gave the orderly the once-over, smiling. Of course he liked what he saw! Toris was a very attractive man!

"Just a little sketch, _mon ami. _We haven't been formally introduced!" He held out his hand. "Francis Bonnefoy!" Toris took that hand with a smile, shaking it firmly.

"Toris Lorinaitis." He introduced himself cheerfully, and Ivan could feel himself getting jealous. "You're very good at that! It reminds me of Feliciano's drawings." He complimented. Francis smiled back.

"Ah, Feliciano was here? He's so much more docile than his violent brother over there—"

"Fuck off, Frenchie!" Came Lovino's reply, but it didn't affect the Frenchman. He began to sketch again, and Toris was watching. Ivan tried to sit up straighter, straining to see what it was that he was drawing. His eyes flickered from the paper to Toris' face several times, until he noticed it getting pink.

"F…Francis, is that…?" The orderly asked, blinking.

"_Érotique_!" The blond announced proudly, and Toris glanced away quickly. No sooner than he did, Francis' hand came up, ever so boldly grasping the Lithuanian's backside.

"_Ah, he—_!" Toris started. A chair grated against the floor as Ivan stood up, slamming his hands onto the table so hard that the jar of water near him rattled, nearly falling over.

"_Francis_!" He growled in anger. This got Antonio's attention, and he rushed over to grab Toris by the shoulders, pulling him a few steps away from Francis.

"Now now," He said with a smile. "We have to stay arm's length away from Francis at all times, got it Toris?" He gave a small laugh. "Did he startle you? He's a little over friendly." Toris' face was still quite red, and he could only nod slightly.

"Toris, Toris come here!" Ivan urged, waving his hand. Anything to get his precious orderly farther away from that man! Antonio nodded, and the brunette wandered over to the table, across from the Russian. He sat down as Ivan motioned for him to do so, and the blond took a seat as well. Dr. Carriedo was scolding Francis, but Ivan didn't think it was serious enough. "You can't trust him." Ivan said sourly, picking up his brush again. The orderly sighed, trying to brush off his embarrassment.

"I-I see…" Green eyes moved over to his picture, and there was that wonderful smile. "Ah, a firebird?" He asked. Ivan nodded slightly, painting the yellow beak and feet now. Though it was a little harder while he was being watched, it also felt good to have the Lithuanian close while he did it. It was almost as if they were doing something _together_!

* * *

By the time that art activities were over, it was almost time for dinner. Aside from Francis' wandering hands, everything went rather peacefully. Toris wasn't the only victim by the end of dinner either, though Alfred only laughed, and Gilbert just threatened to punch the Frenchman. Ivan took to following Toris around where ever he could, under pretense of protecting him from Francis. The Lithuanian suspected otherwise, but he wasn't going to complain as long as Ivan was behaving himself as well. No one else seemed to mind, so it wasn't really a problem. Though the Russian wasn't exactly _helpful, _preferring to watch Toris do whatever it was he was doing, he wasn't disruptive either.

As evening came everyone settled down to watch the TV, and Ivan joined them for the first time, sitting on the couch next to the brunette, with Gilbert on the other side. Sitting against the warm Russian, it took everything Toris had not to drift off again, as now it was Brad sitting off to the side to watch the patients with him, and he could bet that the dark-haired orderly would tell Arthur in a split second. Finally, Brad glanced to his watch and stood up. "Alright everyone, time to start heading to bed. If you have medication stay behind, and if you don't then go ahead." Toris moved to stand with everyone else, but Ivan caught his arm. Leaning down, lips brushed the brunette's ear.

"_Please come at midnight._" He whispered before he smiled, standing and heading to the counter at the safe room to get his pills. Toris flushed a little, standing and heading for the break room for his last break before his second shift.

* * *

It was Heracles again. The dark-haired man sat reading his book as usual, and it _was _Homer. Toris started several small conversations, but they all died off as the other would eventually become distracted by his book again. It wasn't as if he didn't want to talk, it was just that he seemed easily distracted. Even when he did speak, his thoughts sometimes went from one thing to another. The Lithuanian glanced to the clock many times, debating his choices. He was afraid to be in the same room with Ivan alone again for one. Well, not that he _feared _him… His anxiety was for other reasons. What could he possibly want? It wasn't just for the pills, right? He didn't need to take them every night unless he was having trouble sleeping…

His mind went back to the first night, and the episode he'd had. The sound of his screams still gave the Lithuanian the chills. Come to think of it, he'd said something then. Something about the heat, and that he was sorry, and not sorry… Ivan had talked about himself today, just for Toris. While his Russian wasn't perfect, he knew well enough to understand what Ivan was saying. About his father, and how he blamed him for his mother's death. Something about music, and the fire… His sisters were free. Was it pointless to even try and make sense of it? If the Russian was going to tell him something he would say it! Toris didn't want or need these riddles and games, his life was complicated enough! Still he couldn't ignore that Ivan had shared something with him… He glanced at the clock again, swallowing. Midnight… Glancing over to Heracles, he stood up slowly.

"I'm… going to go and check on Ivan. They said he's had trouble sleeping, so I'll go make sure he's doing alright." He said as casually as he could manage. The dark-haired orderly looked up, giving the slightest of smiles.

"…Alright. Better than hearing him scream. Call if you need anything." He gave a nod, and then it was back to his book. Toris breathed a small sigh of relief, heading out the door as he was buzzed through. His heart was racing as he walked down the dimly lit hall, stopping at the door. 216… Sliding his card through the slot, he walked inside. It clicked closed behind him softly, and he swallowed. Ivan was sitting on his bed, knees up, grinning in the light of his bedside table's lamp.

"You came. I was just about to start shouting…" He said. Toris frowned, walking over to the bedside.

"Don't do that if you don't need to. I didn't bring any pills…"

"I don't need them." Ivan shook his head.

"Then what did you need?" Toris rose one eyebrow curiously. He stepped back as Ivan slid the blankets off, moving to stand. "Ah…" The orderly tensed as the Russian came in close, staying still as those long arms wrapped around him.

"I couldn't stand it…" Ivan whispered. Toris relaxed, bringing his arms up around to hug the blond in return.

"Couldn't stand… _what, _Ivan?" He asked quietly. Suddenly those large hands slid downwards, and Toris gave a surprised cry as they settled on his backside. "_Ivan…_!"

"He touched you! Even before I did, he touched you here!" Ivan grasped firmly, and Toris felt his face burning as he pushed at the Russian's chest, fingers curled into his shirt.

"I-Ivan, let go—!" He was cut off as his lips were sealed by the larger man's, eyes widening as he was kissed. Ivan didn't press it more than a simple touch of lips, hands sliding back upwards. Before he knew it, Toris was pressing _into_ that broad chest instead of pushing away, and his eyes were half-lidded. With a simple kiss, he felt almost _relived_. The kiss broke within moments, Ivan's lips hovering above his own as they breathed.

"_There…_" The Russian whispered. He pressed the Lithuanian back, keeping him from stumbling along the way. Toris' back touched the wall, and he bit his lower lip. "It's alright, isn't it? We've got a few moments at least…" Ivan asked, his voice so very hopeful. Toris took in a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears and stuck in his throat. He _needed _to tell him no, to stop and move away from him… But that was the last thing that he really wanted right now. Because whenever those lips touched his, all his day's stress melted away. He wasn't thinking about schoolwork, or this job, his past, or what he needed to go through for his future. All that he thought about when they kissed was _Ivan, _and how good it felt to be desired by someone. Swallowing, he nodded. Ivan's smile practically glowed.

Both of their eyes closed as their lips touched this time, and Ivan sighed into the kiss. Toris' lips parted eagerly for his tongue, and he let it slip inside as Ivan's body pressed in close. The Lithuanian lifted his arms to wrap around the blond's neck, nearly standing on his toes just as Ivan was leaning down for him. Their breath was short and shared between them whenever they broke for it, and now Toris could _feel _Ivan's heart racing. The others could warn him as much as they liked, he knew for sure you couldn't fake a reaction like that. The hands on his hips slid upwards, lifting the edge of his shirt as they did. Ivan froze a moment later, breaking the kiss.

Wide violet eyes stared down at the orderly, and Toris frowned in confusion. Had he done something wrong? It took him a second later to realize that there was a hand on his back. His _bare _back, as it had slid up under the shirt. In an instant all of that fire turned to ice, and he pushed the taller man away with a strong shove. Ivan moved back without resistance. _Shit, _he'd found them! "I-I have to go…!" He turned for the door, but Ivan caught his wrist.

"Ah _nyet, _wait!" He begged, and Toris winced as he looked back. It wasn't because of any physical pain, however. Tears had already gathered into his eyes, and Ivan's own expression seemed pained to see them. "Please… let me see." He asked. Toris' eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly.

"_No, _I can't…!" The orderly found his hand lifted, up behind the blond's neck. He felt the ridged skin there, and he grimaced even more. The burn scars…

"Toris has seen mine…" Ivan stated quietly. "It's only fair…" Toris bit his lower lip, trembling slightly. This was exactly what he had always been afraid of when it came to getting close to anyone! And Ivan was right, of course. Even to the point that Toris had cheated, and read files written by analytical doctors instead of asking the blond himself.

"I… I _know. _I know it's not fair for me to be the one with all the knowledge!" Toris admitted painfully. "But… I'm _afraid…_!" He protested, though he made no move to leave again. His chest rose and fell with slightly labored breath, obviously under pressure. Ivan reached up to brush the brunette's bangs back behind his ear slowly.

"Toris said… he had a typical family." Ivan reminded. "_That's_ not typical…" He indicated the Lithuanian's back. Toris shook his head.

"No. No, it's not! But what was I supposed to say! You cornered me! I-I had to say _something…_" He closed his eyes, covering them with his splinted hand. "How could I let someone here know about me…" Ivan lowered the orderly's hand, holding it in both of his own.

"I'm _very_ good with secrets, Toris." He moved in close, placing a soft kiss on those slightly slack lips. Toris knew that he was being honest about this, at least. After all, whatever it was they had between them was the biggest secret of all. "_Let me see…_" He whispered, and Toris shook his head again.

"I-I'm not ready…" His voice was wavering. Ivan's expression held nothing of his playful smiles, his cold, or his blank ones. He was frowning as if in concern, and it was becoming difficult to look at.

"…_Please._" He pleaded again, "No one outside of this room will _ever _know…" The orderly was breaking down, a few tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He was trembling consistently now, though unable to bring himself to leave. He knew almost everything about the Russian, he'd seen his scars, read his file, seen the best and heard the worst. His wrist was in a split because of his mistake. He wasn't afraid like that, though. This was something much deeper than physical fear. This was something personal enough to shake the emotionally strong Lithuanian. Biting his lower lip, he finally gave a slow nod of his head.

Ivan released the younger man's hand as he took his time to turning around. Hands curled into fists at his sides, shaking slightly. It was as bad as Ivan had been when he'd come into the closet after him for that simple kiss. Ivan carefully took a hold of the edges of Toris' shirt, lifting it very slowly, just in case he changed his mind. All the way up, until the light of the lamp illuminated that lightly tanned skin. "_Ah…_" Ivan sucked in an audible breath as he saw them. Lightened lines, old and faded scars from a few inches long to almost a foot in length. There were a few darker, raised ones as well, ones that Ivan knew all too well to be the effect of an unprotected belt buckle cutting into the skin by blunt force. "_Oh Toris…_" Ivan breathed. He leaned down slowly.

"_Ah…_!" Toris' back straightened when he felt it; warm, damp lips on his cool back. Another kiss and his chest shuddered with a dry sob. Raising his hand to cover his mouth, he cried as Ivan kissed his scars. Each and every one of them while the orderly shook with sobs, unable to even describe the feelings he was going through right now. Relief, fear, shock, and… There was also a deep, overwhelming affection for the man who was kissing his most painful memories away so tenderly. Old scars, newer ones, each one was touched by those soft lips as if to suck out the venomous memories from them. When Ivan stopped his attentions, he pulled the brunette back into himself, backing towards the bed. He sat down once they reached it, pulling Toris gently down in front of him, holding him tightly to his chest as he cried.

* * *

Ivan held his precious orderly as if he were a figure made of glass. The brunette shuddered and shook within his arms, all the while the Russian stayed quiet. To be honest, he'd been more than surprised to discover a deep secret such as this. Oh, he'd known that the Lithuanian was hiding _some_ kind of emotional wound. He knew that from the look in those beautiful green eyes, and every time he smiled, how he seemed to be holding something back. He'd seen that very look on his mother more times than he could count. But to think that Toris' secret would so very close to his own… It was almost frightening. Toris had said he was afraid to let his scars be seen, but Ivan was suddenly afraid of the weight he'd just placed onto his own shoulders.

This was a heavy secret, indeed. At least, he thought so. The tears that were soaking through his pajamas said it was. However, this wasn't _it. _It wasn't the whole story. It would be much too simple to assume that this was his Lithuanian's only story. His pain ran much deeper than just these old scars. Some of them had been old and fading, but Ivan knew the sight of those that were only a few years old. "_Shh, shh…_" He coaxed at last, petting Toris' hair. He slid the tie out so that he could run his fingers through the entire length of it. Slowly the brunette did calm, his sobs becoming farther apart from each other. It was _real _now, their secrets went both ways. Now, Ivan had _something _belonging to the orderly. For now he would be satisfied. When Toris had finally calmed down, Ivan spoke up. "…Is he…?"

"Dead." The Lithuanian said shortly. Ivan nodded, though he was happy with the answer. If the man who had done this to Toris had been out there, alive…

"You mother…?"

"She's alive, back in Lithuania." The orderly wiped his eyes, his face flushed. He couldn't seem to bring himself to leave the Russian's comforting side right now.

"Good." Ivan smiled, but Toris' expression remained unchanged. Ah, peculiar… Before he could question it, Toris was sitting up. "Ah, just a little longer…" Holding him had felt so good! Toris glanced back, and that smile was there again. That sad, wounded smile.

"I really should go. Heracles will start to wonder…" He protested. Ivan frowned, but he released his hold on the younger man. When Toris stood up the Russian leaned back into his headboard.

"Toris… What will you give me if I get some chips?" He asked. The orderly paused, retying his hair.

"You mean… Good behavior chips?" Small plastic chips like casino tokens were given out to those patients that behaved well or helped with chores. They could trade them in for extra time doing the things they liked. It made the brunette's smile a little warmer. "I suppose you'll ask for a kiss?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. Ivan nodded.

"Ah, and for your hair to be down. And maybe… Ah, I'll keep that to myself!" He smiled, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on them. Toris frowned.

"Hey, I didn't say I'd agree to _anything…_" He protested, but Ivan only continued to smile. Toris sighed, touching just under his slightly puffy eyes. Great, what was he going to do if Heracles noticed he'd been crying…? "We'll see, alright?" He said at last. "Just get some tomorrow while it's my day off." Ivan nodded, his right hand playing with his scarf. He expected the orderly to leave, but instead he hesitated for a moment longer. Turning his back to the Russian, he spoke up quietly. "…Aren't you going to ask me?" Ivan covered his mouth with the scarf.

"Ask what?"

"You know! If… If I'll be … be yours." He could tell that the Lithuanian was blushing even without seeing his face. He smiled behind his scarf.

"_Nyet… _Not yet." Not until he knew what _it _was, the other half of Toris' secret. Until he was sure that he couldn't be rejected. "Unless… you _want _me to ask?" Could it be that simple? Toris fell quiet again, hands curling and uncurling for a moment.

"…No, not yet." He agreed. Ivan smiled. "_Spokoynoy nochi', _Ivan." He said quietly, and Ivan's smile fell. He found his cheeks growing hot, and he suddenly felt a little vulnerable. Hiding his face up to his nose, he answered quietly.

"_S…Spokoynoy nochi', _Toris…" He answered. He watched the orderly leave his room, feeling as if the warmth left with him. But it wasn't that the room was colder, it was that his body was getting warmer. He'd forgotten that discovering someone's secrets could feel like this. While trying desperately to get into Toris' heart, he'd inadvertently left his own wide open. Toris held it in those two small, warm hands of his. And now that he held a secret of the Lithuanian's, he had to protect it for the sake of his own heart as well as Toris'. He'd created the first steps of real trust between them, but it was a feeling he hadn't felt in _years… _Laying down with Toris' sweet voice replaying over and over again in his head, he fell into a dreamless sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N

Sorry for the delay! Man, I was on a role with updates, too… Justanotherfangirl, I hope this will make you and your friend feel better! And to a certain anon, I say, your comment was tasteful and constructive. Thank you. Sorry there's not much interaction for Ivan and Toris this time.

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Toris awake the morning of his day off to a strange feeling of relief. Sure he needed a break from work, but that wasn't it. He liked going to class, but it wasn't that either. No, his relief was something else entirely. Last night, he'd shared one of his deepest secrets with someone. Only four living people knew this secret, five now, and that was one too many. Some days his back would ache, phantom pains, whenever he thought too much about him. He could get lost inside his memories and wish never to crawl back out again. So you see, he could understand a lot about Ivan.

Ivan chose to stay inside his own mind so much that he stayed in the hospitals instead of getting better. He couldn't face his memories and so he ran from them. Toris chose his schooling, his brothers, and his job over his misery. He'd even moved to another country to escape it! It wasn't without a sense of guilt, but it was much better than the alternative. The last thing that Toris wanted was to end up like his father, or, his mother. He didn't know which was worse. The ceiling he was staring at had become a familiar scene for Toris these past few weeks. Before that he was always jumping out of bed so fast that he had never noticed it. The subtle cracks and chips of paint, and a warped spot over in the corner near the bathroom from water damage. He'd complained about it once, but the landlord never did anything about it.

It was easier to stare than it was to think, easier for his emotional state. His hand drifted down to his inner thigh, feeling the slightly raised line there. It was about four inches long, a paler color than the skin around it. His mistake, the only one he had ever made like that. Toris wished that it didn't exist, as much as he wished that the scars on his back would hurry up and heal. He didn't want to see them, didn't want to fear them, and most importantly, didn't want to _feel _them. And yet a part of him felt like they were already gone. Someone had seen his scars and offered no pity or guilty stares. No, he'd… Ivan had _kissed _them. It had been embarrassing, but even now he could feel those warm lips on his back. It was a world better than the pain which could accompany thinking about them.

Toris knew it wasn't healthy, these new feelings for Ivan, but he no longer _cared. _That wasn't to say that he was being blind. Ivan was still dangerous, and the questions surrounding the fire that took his father's life were one of the biggest issues. If Ivan had killed someone… Not even that, if he was _capable _of killing someone, Toris didn't know what to think. Toris had _hated _his father, but he never would have _killed _him. Yet it had been impossible to leave without his brothers and his mother. If his father had not died, he might not be here now. What would he have done to escape that life? The more that Toris thought about it the more that he found himself frightened of his own thoughts. Being around Ivan was causing this, yet he couldn't give him up. It felt too good. And it wasn't hurting anyone…

Toris threw back the covers at last, sitting up to swing his legs over the side of his bed. Running his fingers through his hair, he got up to take a shower before he had to go to class. If only the warm water could wash away more than physical dirt and grime. The only thing that seemed to bring him peace anymore was spending time with his brothers, going to class, or being with Ivan. But those three things seemed to conflict with each other, and so he had to concentrate on each one separately for his peace to even out.

* * *

Class went smoothly for Toris this time. He'd grabbed some toast and juice before he left home, so he didn't look quite so tired today. All that he thought about while Berwald spoke was what was being taught. One thing at a time, he had told himself. For the most part it worked, except that everything new that he learned he immediately wanted to put to use. This led to thoughts of his job, and the patients that he worked with. Not only Ivan, but the others as well. He'd like to speak to Berwald some time about a few of them, but to tell the truth he was a little intimidated by the Swede.

After class Toris met with Tino for a late lunch, even though Toris knew he should get home as soon as he could. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, or Kūčios as his tradition called it. He'd have to get home and cook so that he could eat it with his brothers before he went to work. And that night was an overnight, too. He also worked on Christmas… Toris' luck wasn't very good on those terms this year. Previously he'd been able to take the days off and really cook and enjoy his time with his brothers. He just hoped they weren't too upset about it. Eduard had already taken on the more English customs of not celebrating in the traditional sense, but Raivis still liked to.

"How's the job?" Tino asked as he chewed on some of his salted licorice. Toris looked up from his plate of overcooked cafeteria macaroni.

"Oh, it's… Challenging. But I do enjoy it so far. I'm learning a lot on my feet, you know?"

"I bet! I'd love to get a job like that, but I need the better pay from the one I have already. Once I get my Associates I'm going into counseling while I continue schooling." Tino smiled, sitting back in his chair.

"That's a good plan. Unfortunately Kirkland Institute doesn't have anything like normal counseling, and I really can't see myself leaving them. But maybe I could make it a part time thing…" He chewed his lower lip a bit. Tino gave a small laugh.

"With that job? You'd never be home! It's over 40 hours isn't it? Come on, you'd have to choose one. Don't they have a program for Associates?" One eyebrow rose.

"Mm, not really. For the psychologists and psychiatrists the entry level is a Bachelors. They're pretty high end. I admit it's a bit intimidating sometimes. I'm pretty sure the doctors I've met are all Masters or have doctorates. Though they definitely give me something to look up to!"

"Still, an Associates as an orderly? I wouldn't be able to do that. I want to jump right in to helping people. Oh, not that you're not helping people!" Tino added quickly, "I just mean for me! Um, did that come out right?" He frowned slightly, but Toris laughed it off.

"It's alright, I understand what you mean. And sometimes I'm not really sure myself. I like to think that I'm making a difference for the patients that I work with, but in the end I can't really advise them or anything. It's a learning experience more than anything. I _was _told that there's a _possibility_ of an actual internship if I pull this year off as an orderly though. If that happens, I can somewhat shadow the doctors there." It only made him nervous to think about it. Yao seemed to have it out for him sometimes, though Antonio was so nice. Arthur was very critical, too, so Toris felt as if he'd have to do extra good to earn such a position. Tino looked excited for him. At least _someone _had faith in Toris' abilities…

"I know you can do it! You're one of the nicest people that I know, Toris! How can you mess up taking care of patients? You don't even have to advise them, like you said. Just watch and learn while taking care of them. You passed your test for giving out medication right? Handing out medicine and watching them, then." Oh how simple it sounded when you put it like that. It had been just over a week now though, and this job was anything but simple. Missing from that description was the chance of injury, the difficult patients, and the stress from every orderly wanting to do their own separate things. He'd explained away his wrist to Tino briefly, and the other hadn't asked much more about it. Tino respected privacy like that, which is why Toris was so comfortable without him.

"Sorry, I'm totally late!" Came a voice from beside them as a tray clattered down onto the table. A salad with a side of apple sauce, and a bottle of water following. Looks like someone was on a vegetarian kick once again… Feliks plopped down into his chair as he picked up his water, twisting off the cap. His faded jeans and baggy t-shirt which hung off one shoulder was topped off today with fancy boots and a gray beret. Toris and Tino both gave welcoming smiles, though the latter went back to his licorice.

"We were just talking about my job and my plans when I get my Associates. I want to work towards the next level of internship but I need only the best behavior and grades…" Toris explained. Feliks smiled smugly, taking a drink of his water. Setting it down, Toris was struck with a bad feeling just before his friend spoke up.

"Better not let any patients kiss you then." He said with a laugh. Tino choked on his snack as Toris' face turned a little pale, glancing his direction. Before he could even speak, the Finn recovered enough to gasp,

"_What_?" He turned light blue eyes on the mortified man sitting between his two friends. Toris shook his head, lifting his hands in defense.

"It's not like he makes it sound! I-it was an accident, and-!"

"How the heck is a kiss an accident? He tripped and fell onto your mouth?" Feliks raised an eyebrow as he stabbed at his salad. Toris shot a glare in his direction, never wishing so much that there was a mute button for his dear childhood friend. "Really Toris, if it was nothing then why are you acting like its some big secret?" The blond pushed, still smiling as he took a bite of his salad.

"I-it's not, but it's not a joking matter either! I could lose my job over something like that!" Toris stressed with a lowered voice. Tino frowned.

"But they kissed you without permission, right? Why didn't you report it or something? Like your wrist, you can't control everything they do. I'm sure they'd understand…"

"It's too late for that now. It was days ago and besides, I didn't want to get him into trouble or anything. He got into enough trouble from _this._" He indicated his wrist. It was Feliks' turn to choke.

"_What_?" He coughed. "That bastard is the same one who hurt your wrist? Totes, you need to tell someone! He's clearly harassing you!"

"He's _not _harassing me, he's just lonely!" Toris argued. Tino's eyes widened a little.

"_He_?" The Finn repeated. Feliks carried on anyway.

"Listen Totes, just because you have some kind of a crush on this guy—!"

"I do _not _have a crush!" Toris' heart was racing now, and his face had regained its color. Unfortunately for him, that color was red. Tino fell quiet by this time, though he was looking a bit uncomfortable as the argument seemed to escalate between his two friends.

"Oh, right! You said he was attractive, and he wasn't a bad kisser!" Feliks was glaring back now. Toris' hands slammed down onto the table as he stood up, his chair grating against the floor as it was pushed back.

"_Enough_!" He shouted, drawing a few stares from around them. Gritting his teeth, he leaned down to pick up his bag. "I'm not discussing this anymore. I've got to get home and start on lunch for Kūčios tomorrow." He lifted his tray, and Feliks' expression changed.

"H-hey, don't _go. _I was just saying…"

"I _know _what you were saying, Feliks, and I don't appreciate it. I told you that in confidence, and you broke my trust. I'm only glad you said it to Tino, and I pray you haven't told anyone else!"

"I-I haven't! Like I would do that!" Feliks sounded hurt. Toris only kept his unhappy expression.

"How would I know that? You just blurted it out in the middle of public. If this got back to my job, I really could lose it! I would never forgive you if that happened! No, don't say anything else. I don't want to hear it right now; I really _do _have to get home." He glanced to Tino. "I'm sorry about this, really, but please keep this between us."

"O-of course, Toris." Tino nodded. At least _he _looked sincere.

"_Toris…_" Feliks was pouting now as his friend turned his back, leaving the table. Toris continued to walk, not looking back. As much as it hurt him to do it, he really couldn't deal with this right now. If he was going to compartmentalize everything, he couldn't mix his friends with his work. He couldn't mix much of anything with his work. And just whose fault was that?

Toris' chest hurt by the time he reached the market close to his house. It seemed to be impossible to forget about his work—ah, no. It was impossible to forget about _Ivan, _for even a day. He knew that he'd let himself get in far too deep. While he was at work he'd ceased to care about right and wrong, or even the chance of getting caught. He cared enough sure, but that didn't mean he could stop himself. Whenever he thought of the patients lips on his all he felt was peace. He'd never felt like this before, and he liked it. It was addictive, feeling this connection with someone. Toris only seemed to realize how wrong it really was when it was put so bluntly before him. If his brothers found out…

Oh, he was sure he knew what Eduard would say. He wouldn't even be surprised that it was a man, he would just tell Toris how dangerous that it was. He'd remind his brother that all of his hard work could fall away in an instant if he was caught. And it wasn't as if he was doing anything but _kissing_ Ivan… If it was just a brief moment, like in the closet, he was sure they could explain it away as Ivan teasing him. _Once. _And while Yao knew that it was more than that, he cared too much about Ivan's welfare to tell. Antonio might frown at him if he knew, but he didn't think he would think any less of Toris. It was really Arthur that he was afraid of. The man was so by-the-book that he feared any small slight would cast him into a bad light.

When he had everything that he needed, Toris finally headed home. It was early evening now, and he'd have plenty of time to cook and relax. The traditional _dinner _was going to become _breakfast, _but at least he'd get to have it at all. Eduard and Raivis were waiting for him when he got home, and he put on a smile for them. Soon all three of them were cooking, though Eduard only helped in-between his homework assignments. They weren't due until the end of their Christmas break which began today, but ever the over-achiever he wanted to stay ahead. The way he put it, if he did the work now he could have his free time later. Raivis on the other hand wanted to wait until the last day to do his own homework.

* * *

Ivan awoke that Wednesday morning with a sense of purpose. He had a goal for today, a focus to move towards. It had been a long time since he'd had one of those. But Toris was worth trying for! He'd behaved himself a whole day for a kiss, but this was going to be a little more challenging. To get some good behavior chips, he was going to have to do more than just be good. He needed to help out, be nice, and participate without causing any trouble. He hated all of those things…

Breakfast came just after meds, which he had taken without complaint. With gritted teeth he offered to help clean up after everyone at the end of it, which Gilbert teased him for. Using Toris' suggested counting method, he managed not to punch the irritating German right in his smirking face. Nearing lunch time, he'd offered to help the female orderly Rita make the beds with the clean sheets being brought up. Alfred heckled him during lunch, and Ivan had broken three plastic forks in an effort not to stab the infuriating American. Again, he helped clean up. By this time word of his good behavior had gotten around to Yao, who bumped up his scheduled appointment with Ivan by a while.

Sitting in the ornately decorated office, Ivan let his violet eyes wander the room. There was almost always something new here amongst the many trinkets and books. Amidst the more traditional jade dragons and cork cut-out scenes behind glass there were several cute figures from Japanese—or were they Chinese?—cartoons. Yao didn't like to talk about them but whenever Ivan brought them up he loved to watch the doctor's face turn red. He'd say they were his brothers or something, and then quickly move on to another topic. There was a new little figure sitting on the edge of his desk today. A white cat with clothing made of brightly painted plastic. Ivan lifted it carefully, turning it over in his fingers. The door opened behind him, Yao stepping in to close it after him.

"Put that down." The doctor said with a frown, moving over to snatch the little toy. Ivan only smiled, sitting back in his plush chair and getting comfortable. Yao moved back behind the desk, replacing the toy before he could continue. "You going to tell me what going on?" He asked, one finely shaped black brow raising. Ivan tilted his head as he covered his mouth with his scarf, and therefore his smile.

"What ever do you mean, Yao?" He asked, raising his own blond brow. Yao narrowed his eyes, sitting down in his leather chair.

"Don't play with me. Why so good today?"

"You're not happy?" Ivan looked hurt. "I thought you would be proud. I've gotten two good behavior chips!" His voice pleaded, but his eyes were still smiling. Yao frowned, not amused or swayed.

"Ivan, you up to something. I am happy, but still suspicious. If you stay like this, I _will _be happy." He admitted, picking up his pen and jotting a few things down. "This have to do with Toris?"

"What makes you think that?" Ivan asked. Again a dark brow rose as equally dark eyes lifted from the paper.

"Everything good has to do with Toris for you."

"That's very kind of you! He'll be happy to hear you think so highly of him." Ivan chuckled. "Does it matter if it has to do with him? If I'm behaving then you, as my doctor, should say 'good job', right?" Yao still frowned, stubborn to give in, but he gave a small sigh.

"Good job, Ivan." He said hesitantly. Just as Ivan smiled he continued. "But I watch you carefully." Lifting his pen again, his eyes fell to the paper. "Why you tell Toris about your father?" He asked suddenly. Ivan's smile fell, and he frowned.

"Who told you that?" He demanded. Yao didn't look up.

"Then it true? I heard you got disruptive in group; spoke in Russian. I think you talk about father. How much did you tell?" Now he looked up.

"Not much." Ivan admitted, giving a shrug. "That he was a cold, old bastard. That he hit _moy dorogaya mat', _and my sisters and I." His fingers played with his scarf. "About the music box…" Yao was writing as Ivan spoke.

"Why did you tell him that?"

"I don't know. When I talk about father I hear it sometimes. When I see fire, I hear it. I hear it in the dark, too. I started sleeping with my light on again, but then I only see the fire under the door…" Ivan tugged a length of his scarf between his hands now.

"Under father's door?"

"Ah-ah!" Ivan smiled. "Thought you could catch me, _da_?" Ivan chuckled again. "I have nothing new to say to you." Yao slammed his pen down.

"It been three years, Ivan! It time to tell me, do you not think?" Even as he asked he knew the answer, so he continued. "I'm tired of half-truth. I want help you, but you so stubborn! He not can help you, Ivan! He not qualified." Now Ivan frowned, tensing defensively.

"Maybe I don't need someone _qualified. _Maybe I need someone to _understand._"

"I understand! You at wall, Ivan. I do everything for you. I keep you from Level Two, I give medicine to make calm, to sleep. I talk with Arthur for hours. I give you new clothes, watch you bathe—three years I watch you bathe!" Yao's voice didn't raise, but it became frustrated. Ivan was still frowning, tugging at that length of scarf. "It getting close, you will get worse. This time let me help!"

"There's nothing you can do. I've already made up my mind."

"To stay here forever?" Yao challenged. "You not belong here! Eight years too long, you not see this? This no life for _anyone._" He was frowning, lifting the pen to chew on the end. Ivan averted his violet eyes, his expression hard.

"Where I don't belong is _out there._ I'm safe in here. They're safe if I'm here." He argued. Yao pulled the pen away from his mouth.

"They… Your sisters?" The doctor made a note without waiting for an answer. "They miss you."

"They don't." He shook his head.

"They send gifts every year." Yao reminded. Ivan smiled.

"Hahaha… They're bribes to keep me here." He mused, glancing back to Yao.

"Why you say such things? Natalya, she writes you." At that Ivan gave a noticeable shudder. This was nothing new, so Yao paid it no mind. "She love you."

"But _dorogaya_ Katya, she is afraid of me." He reminded.

"Because she think you dangerous."

"I _am._" Ivan frowned as if to challenge Yao to disagree. Yao didn't back down, standing up and walking around to the front of the desk. He stopped in front of Ivan's chair.

"By _choice._"

"Not always. Sometimes, I can't help myself."

"Like when you hurt Toris?" Now Ivan's expression fell. His eyes turned to the floor.

"…Yes."

"You not want to hurt him anymore. To do that, you must get better, yes?" Yao asked, reaching out to take a hold of Ivan's chin. He lifted it up, looking into his eyes. Ivan resisted a little, his expression somewhat lost. He _knew _that Yao was trying to help him, and he _knew _that he was right. But if he got better, it meant he would have to _leave. _They were both quiet for a long moment, before Ivan finally spoke.

"I don't want to hurt Toris." He affirmed. Yao frowned.

"You not supposed to hurt _anyone._ That how you get better." He stated, letting go of his patient's chin. "You think you can have Toris while here? If you care, you get better." Yao set his hands on his hips as he leaned back against the desk. He honestly couldn't believe that he was using someone as bait to try and get his patient to _want _to get better, but after three years did he really have a choice? Ivan's eyes drifted down again, as if without that hand he couldn't keep them up. There was another option, but he wouldn't tell Yao that. He could have Toris without leaving this place, being out there and letting them down. He could still protect them from here and be happy. Yao shook his head, giving a sigh of exasperation. "I not know how much more I can take, Ivan. Three years, I stay your doctor. Soon, Arthur give me a date. If you not improve by then…"

"I will show improvement then. What do you think I'm doing today?" Ivan smiled. Yao frowned still, pointing his finger.

"This _serious._" He stressed.

"I _am _serious. I always am." Ivan chuckled, no longer tugging his scarf in stress. "I will show improvement, and he will be so grateful that he doesn't have to pay anymore workman's compensation that he'll forget _all _about little me." Now he was twirling the end of the scarf around in circles.

"Get _better. _Not just pretend."

"I will." Ivan promised with the smile of an angel. Yao gave up, tossing his hands into the air.

"I care Ivan. I _really _care. But I can only take so much! This is last warning for you, please mark my words." The doctor's expression was grim. He wanted to believe in his patient, _really _he did. But he had to face that Ivan really didn't have the best track record for keeping his promises or telling the truth. Not even the mention of Toris seemed to sway him like he thought it would have. Ivan was _still _terrified of getting out, and in three years, he still didn't know _why. _He had his suspicions though… Ivan stood up then, brushing off his clothes.

"Are we done? I really should get to activities. I was going to help Antonio clean up after that, too! Surely he'll give me another chip, don't you think?" He turned his back on the doctor before Yao even had a chance to answer. His hand was on the door before he called out after him.

"Ivan… You will never change until you honest with self first."

"Mm. I got it, Doc." The door clicked as he opened it, leaving before anything else could be said.

* * *

Wednesday night, just as Toris was settling in for an early bedtime, his cell phone rang. He frowned at the caller ID, his thumb hovering over the end call button for several rings. Switching over to the answer, he lifted the phone to his ear. "_Alio_."

"_Atsiprasau_! Totes, I'm _so so so _sorry! I really didn't mean to bring it up like that in front of Tino! You know I would never do anything that would hurt you, right? I mean Tino would never say anything! I was just worried about you and I was afraid you might be in trouble. You used to tell me everything, and now I feel like I have no idea what's going on with you! Even when I saw you the other day you just kind of hung around when we watched stuff and I think even your brothers are noticing." Feliks only stopped for a breath, but Toris cut him off.

"Feliks. It's alright."

"No, it's not! I was being childish, and I lashed out at you just because I didn't want to face the fact that we were growing apart."

"Hey, it's not like that…" Toris protested. Feliks sighed.

"No, let me finish. We _are _growing apart, Toris. I mean, we've both changed since we came here. I just didn't want to admit it at first. I just kept on going with my life, and I admit, I thought you would never go anywhere. I left you behind while I made friends, thinking that you would just stay still. We both had school, but you studied so much that I got bored. I found other things to do. But Toris, I _never _wanted to grow apart from you!"

"F-Feliks, I didn't think…"

"I know you didn't! That's because you're too good to do something like forget about an old friend. No matter how I treated you, you've always stayed with me. You still know everything about me, but I know nothing about you! You told me about what happened because you trusted me, and I…" He sniffed. "I broke that trust."

"Are you crying?" Toris frowned, worried. Feliks sniffed again, giving a small laugh.

"That's why I love you, Toris."

"…Ką? Ah, what?" Toris felt his face go pale.

"I did something horrible to you, and you're still worried about me."

"I-it's not that big of a deal, Feliks. Listen, I forgive you alright? S-so don't go saying things like…"

"I meant it!" Feliks urged. "I didn't understand it until today. When you said that guy kissed you and you liked it I was so confused. When I lashed out today I realized I was jealous. Toris, I want to…"

"_Ne._" Toris spoke before his friend was even finished.

"Why not!"

"Y…you're too late, Feliks." Toris sat down heavily on his bed, falling back into it. He stared up at the ceiling just as he had that morning, his head spinning and his heart heavy. "I'm in love with someone else." The phone went dead for a long, long moment. Just when he was starting to think that Feliks hung up, there was a small laugh.

"I get it. I'm sorry, that was so random! I don't know what I was thinking. Seriously, forget I said anything! Haha, so, when do I get to meet him?" Feliks' voice was cheerful, but it was still broken by sniffs here and there. Toris turned onto his side, curling up as he stared out towards his window.

"You can't." He said bluntly. Feliks was quiet for another few seconds.

"Oh. He's a secret then? Aaah, my little Toris is all grown up! Alright then, I'll wait until you're ready. But if he ever breaks your heart—!"

"I'll tell you all about it if that happens." Toris promised. "Feliks, I have to go to bed now…"

"Oh, that's right. I forgot all about Kūčios! Have a great dinner, er, breakfast-lunch type thing tomorrow! Do you… think I could drop by on Saturday? You're off then, right?"

"Of course. I'd like that. We can catch up, huh?" Toris' voice was quiet, and he barely concentrated on what he was saying. Feliks sounded happier now.

"Cool! It's a date then! _Ciao _Totes!" _Click._

Toris held the phone up to his ear for some time after the call had ended. He listened to nothing but the silence, which was almost a physical sound right now. The steady sound of his own breathing was even louder in his ears, and the feel of his heart beating heavily within his chest. _I'm in love with someone else. _He'd said it out loud this time. It was spur of the moment, he'd panicked! He didn't know how else to let Feliks down. It wasn't that he didn't love his friend, but he had never had those kind of feelings towards him. Feliks was like another brother to him. A pushy, childish, sometimes selfish brother. In fact, he had a lot in common with Ivan. Except that Feliks wasn't… _damaged. _

Toris didn't want to _fix _Ivan. He wanted to _relate. _To discover the extent of the Russian's damage, and to admit his own. _Selfish, _he told himself. _Ivan isn't you. _And yet, _he could be. _If things had gone differently, if he hadn't suddenly been freed by a stroke of luck… If God's hand hadn't reached down to collect his father when it had… Toris' free hand rose up as he dropped the phone, fingers tangling into his bangs as he rolled onto his back. Oh, _God… _"_I love him._" He whispered. He _needed _to. Only someone just as damaged as he was could possibly fill this … emptiness.

"_I won't become my mother._" He swore to the empty room. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, slipping free to wet the hair at his temples. "I am _strong. _I will _beat _this. I'll love him until he loves himself." _His insanity will keep me sane._


	12. Chapter 12

A/N

Notes at the end of this chapter because I didn't want to take up space here. :)

* * *

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Love was a complicated thing. You love your family, you love your friends, and it's assumed you should love your significant other. Love could be honest, or encouraged by certain situations. It could simply be there as long as you could remember, or it could blindside you one day out of the blue. But as Toris had learned early on in his schooling, the one thing that love was not was planned. You didn't _plan _to fall in love with someone, such a thing was impossible. There was a man named Robert Sternberg who had once studied love. The conclusion that he came to was that there were eight whole types of love.

According to which components of love you had, you were considered to share that type of love with someone. These components were intimacy, commitment, and passion. The goal of love, if there could be such a thing, was to share all three of these. However as it was right now, Toris only shared one. _Passion. _An overwhelming desire to be close to another person. It was what they called infatuation, or love at first sight. And so it wasn't a lie that he loved Ivan, but it might have been a stretch when he told Feliks that he was _in _love with someone.

Intimacy wasn't what most people assumed it to be however. It was the feeling of being close and connected with someone. You could share your feelings and secrets freely, trusting that person. Toris shared this with Feliks. He could even say that they used to share commitment, plans to grow and do their best together. He used to see them as close friends for life. But even with intimacy and commitment at the same time, it was still only companionate love. This was what they said most marriages would boil down to once passion was lost. And with Ivan right now, there was only _passion._

Love was anything but simple. At any moment this passion could die down and leave him with nothing. But there was also a chance that the intimacy between them could grow. Toris had cheated, jumped ahead and read into Ivan's past. He hadn't waited to be told, because he had thought that this was only a job. But now that Ivan had run across one of Toris' own secrets, it would be hard to keep him from the others. Oh, he would hold out as long as he could! He wasn't so foolish as to jump into another category of love so quickly. Protecting himself from getting hurt was the most important thing right now.

In the meantime he would continue to hold on to the passion that was so obviously shared between them. It kept him going, provided him with the drive he needed to get by right now. It seemed to be helping Ivan too. He was sleeping better at night, and behaving himself lately. No more self injuries or wounded orderlies or other patients, though he knew it had been hard for him sometimes. If he could continue to improve, then this might not all be for nothing. Whether or not this passion died down in the future, it wouldn't change Toris' desire to understand and to help the Russian. If they developed only intimacy instead, then Ivan would still be considered a friend in the triangular theory of love.

Thinking about all of this only led him back to thinking about his parents. Had they ever loved each other, before he came along? Because for as long as he could remember the household had been filled with his father's raised voice. His kindly grandmother's always countered it when _that man_ was gone, and his mother… She was always so silent. Quiet and always busy. She cleaned, she cooked, and occasionally she would hold Toris or his brothers tightly to her chest before they went off to school. More often than that she only kept them still while she applied some of her good makeup to their cheeks, or stopped them from leaving the house with short sleeves, even in the summer. There was _always _something to cover up in his household. A bruise, a bad grade, a broken glass. And the saddest part was that their family was far from abnormal for lower class Lithuanian families. Jobs and money were low, and booze was cheap.

There were days that Toris felt like talking about it to someone. But his brothers pretended like it had all been a bad dream, and one mention of that man would make them go pale. Poor Raivis would tremble and cover his ears. He'd been so young… Eduard was old enough to understand more, but his pride wouldn't let him admit how inferior and helpless it had made him feel. And Feliks could talk casually about it but he couldn't _understand. _He was actually quite a good listener, and he already knew everything, so it could be comforting not to deal with the initial pity that Toris always got otherwise. But then he would either walk on eggshells for days or try much too hard to cheer Toris up. It was ironic that Toris now worked in a whole building of psychologists and psychiatrists, but that he couldn't talk to any of them. Well, he _could… _but then he ran the risk of having everything he did be analyzed.

And he wasn't… _comfortable _with that. Who _would_ be? The sound of the alarm on his cell phone didn't even startle him. Rolling over to the side, he turned it off lazily. He'd already been awake for a good two hours anyway. Pushing himself up from the bed, Toris slipped on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before he went to wake up his brothers.

* * *

Toris' mood was pretty high as he stepped into the institution that day. Sitting down with an early meal with his brothers had done wonders to get his mind off of bad memories. They'd spent the last few years alone, making every holiday count so that they didn't have to think of anything before them. 'Last year' became a good set of words instead of a bad comparison. Stepping into the Common room was a blast of sound compared to the silent hallway he'd come from. Alfred was standing on the couch and talking loudly, a red and white Santa hat sitting on his head. The TV was on at the moment, displaying some Christmas special it seemed, and Lovino was shouting at Alfred to be quiet so that he could hear. Gilbert was laughing at them both, sitting on the couch facing them. He held a hat too, though he was spinning it on his hand at the moment. It didn't take much to find Ivan, sitting alone in the far corner. This time he had his back to the window, and his hands were over his ears again.

"Alfred, don't hurt yourself!" Toris shouted suddenly. The American spun around so fast that he nearly _did _fall, catching himself by bending over and grabbing the back of the couch. He had to catch his hat from slipping off too, and he smiled wide.

"Toris! Merry Christmas! Well close enough. What'd you say?"

"Merry Christmas, and I said be careful! Please sit down." Toris said as he headed for the Safe room. Alfred dropped to his knees, still hanging over the back of the couch. Toris smiled in thanks as he was buzzed in, turning to look ahead. No sooner than he stepped foot inside the Safe room then Sarah slipped something over his head. "Ah…?" Reaching up, he felt a headband, and further up his fingers brushed flat felt horns. "Seriously? I don't even get to be a Santa?" He asked with a smile. Sarah laughed, going back to putting pills into cups. She herself wore one like Toris, a pair of red felt horns.

"Well there was no more of those hats, the patients all wanted them. Antonio took one too. And Michael here has a stick up his ass." She jerked her thumb behind her to indicate the unhappy looking orderly. Michael leaned back against the pill counter, arms crossed.

"Yeah, like I have something to be cheery about. It's Christmas fucking Eve and I'm stuck here with all these half-decks instead of my girlfriend."

"You mean your blow-up doll?" Sarah quipped. Toris couldn't help but chuckle, though he glanced back to Michael.

"What do you mean by half-decks?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You know, these bastards playing life without a full deck." Now Toris raised an eyebrow.

"Who really is though? Don't we all have a card or two missing? I mean, with you it's your empathy. For Sarah it's her will to keep gossip to herself."

"Hey!" Sarah laughed. Michael only glared, and Toris merely smiled. He headed on back to the break room to put his bag away while Sarah shouted something about Toris having his common sense missing. Well, maybe she was a little right on that one.

* * *

Ivan _hated _this time of the year. He always had, but for different reasons. In Russia it had never been this bad… The days could come and go and no one bothered to say much of anything. Anything his sisters sent for his birthday rarely got to him, the orderlies and such there were much to corrupt. This country was a little stricter about stealing mail and packages—even from the institutionalized. Still he didn't mind. Those first years had been the worst, pushed him to the limits of his own… Well, his sanity hadn't needed much help. But he had been able to live normally enough before _that_ night. But he didn't want to talk about anything before he had come to this place, so how could anyone know? Oh, Yao pressed and hounded him for scraps of information. Sometimes he got them, usually more unintentionally than anything.

Ivan had a bad habit of talking in his 'sleep', and this month was the worst. It was why he tried _not _to sleep. He only knew one way to not sleep though, and so he was already putting that plan into action. Ivan looked up when he heard Toris' voice, sparing Alfred an annoyed glance for stealing the other's attention first. Ivan's hand slid into his pocket, checking to make sure they were still there. Fingers closed around the small plastic objects and he relaxed. Ivan worried for a moment as Toris went into the Safe room, watching Sarah approach him. But Toris didn't look his way, only responded to her and that bastard Michael. He was getting really tired of that man… So, she didn't tell Toris! Sarah was a nice girl, but sometimes he wished she'd mind her own business… Good or bad, he'd rather Toris find out Ivan's behavior for himself.

Ivan glanced over the window to look outside, the weather dreary as usual. Everything was gray, and there was a light sheen of ice on the windows. Looks like it was going to snow soon… Not much different from Russia after all. His gaze shifted to much closer, and his reflection stared back at him. Tensing up, he looked ahead again quickly. Gripping the end of the scarf in his hands, he closed his eyes. A strange scent caught his attention, and he opened his eyes quickly. Glancing over his shoulder again, he saw that Francis had moved over near him. The man lifted a lit match to the end of the cigarette that was dangling from his lips. Francis took a few puffs before the end glowed red, and he shook out the match. The second that sulfuric scent reached Ivan, he flinched.

Ivan's chair grated on the smooth tiles as he pushed it back to stand up in a hurry, sending it clattering to the floor. Francis turned around just as Ivan reached him, giving a jump as the taller man slapped the match out of his hands. "Hey—!" He stopped again as his cigarette was snatched. Frowning, Francis opened his mouth to protest, but Ivan got there first.

"_What's this_?" Ivan hissed.

"Th-that's my cigarette, _ami._"

"_Wrong._" Ivan lifted an eyebrow, turning the filter towards himself so that the smoldering tip faced Francis. He lifted it up to eyelevel, and Francis tried to take a step back, finding the barred windows there to prevent that. "This is _fire._" Ivan said with the tone of voice that one might tell a child. Francis raised his hands defensively as Ivan brought it closer to the smaller man's face.

"I-I thought you liked fire? You always stare at it when we burn trash or compost outside, and you sing that little song!"

"Fire is good _outside, da_?" Ivan's eyes narrowed again. Violet eyes moved from Francis' face to the tip of the cigarette, and he seemed to shudder. Francis swallowed, his Adams apple giving a small movement. "But _not _inside…" Ivan glanced back, his eyes hard.

"I get it! Bad inside, I understand. J-just put down the cigarette—"

"Ivan, what are you doing?" The cigarette was promptly released, falling to the floor where it bounced once, shedding a bit of ash. Ivan stepped on it firmly before he turned to face Toris with a smile.

"Smoking isn't allowed for patients, but Francis was breaking that rule."

"No one else complains!"

"_That's _because they all _care _that you have some sort of stake in this institution. But that doesn't change the fact that it's against the rules." Ivan threatened over his shoulder. Francis frowned, but Toris spoke up.

"He's right actually. Francis, please give me the cigarettes." Toris held out his hand. Francis continued to frown, looking back between the two bothering him about this. He hesitated long enough for Toris to raise an eyebrow. "Don't make me call the Hero over here."

"_Non, non, _leave Alfred out of this." Francis' voice gave away his exasperation, and he reached into the pocket of his pants. He smiled as he held them out a little, taking a step towards the orderly. Ivan held out his arm and Francis coughed as it caught him in the gut, stopping him in its tracks.

"Arm's length please." Ivan nearly sang, giving the sweetest of smiles. Francis nearly pouted now, holding out the pack as far as he could. Toris took it, slipping into his own pocket for now. He held a paper cup in his other hand, and he smiled.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for a pretty fac—_ow._" He bent over a little, frowning at Ivan who had pushed his arm back into his stomach.

"If you would be so kind as to leave us now, Francis." Ivan was still smiling, and Francis looked a little nervous, nodding his head.

"Alright, alright. I shall leave the two lovebirds be!" He held up his hands as if in defeat, stepping back before he blew Toris a kiss and hurried over to the couch to sit down next to Alfred. Toris' cheeks were colored the cutest shade of pink, Ivan thought as he smiled wide. They _were _lovebirds, right? And the best part was that Francis said things like that all the time, so no one would think much about it. But if it made Toris blush every time…

"H-here Ivan. They said you refused them." Toris lifted the cup with one hand, holding it out and pulling Ivan from his thoughts. The cup was filled with a brown liquid, and under the cup there had been three pills in the palm of his hand. Ivan smiled, taking the cup and picking up the first pill, the smallest. He placed it onto his tongue before he took a sip, swallowing it down. He then took the other two pills, lifting them up and putting them into his mouth. He then reached out quickly, snatching Toris' festive headband by the horns and tossing it off behind the orderly. "H-hey!" Toris complained, turning it around to pick it up. Ivan reached back to his mouth, lifting his scarf and spitting the pills into it.

"_Hey_!" Alfred shouted as Toris stood back up. Ivan froze, and both he and Toris glanced to the side. Had he seen? "He was looking at your ass, Toris!" Ivan smiled again as Toris blushed, and now he made as if he was simply holding his scarf down as he took another drink of tea. It seemed that the American was his unwitting accomplice now, as the scandalized look that Toris gave him told him that the orderly believed it, and had assumed that was the cause for the little act of rebellion. Ivan only gave a shrug as he sipped again.

"Who can blame me?" A tilt of the head and a smile was enough for Toris to turn his gaze away. Ah, it was torture! And how strange, Ivan loved to tease and pester people to tears! But he never wanted to do anything _naughty _with _them._ Perhaps that was just the difference. Other's blushes and stammers made Ivan think he'd won, the game was his. Lately every time that it happened with Toris, he felt as if he'd just played a hand against _himself. _As if Toris was winning without even trying.

"Stop playing with me. It's time for your bath." _Oh, _so _that's _why he seemed extra flustered. Ivan chuckled, covering his nose with the scarf—and still holding the pills there.

"Toris is so eager to see my body again?" Just as Toris glanced back with an angry frown, lips open to protest, Ivan laughed. "_Da, da. _I'll be good. Just let me go to my room for a moment. If you do, I'll be _extra _good!" Toris frowned, suspicious. Francis laughed from the side, making a comment in French. Neither Ivan nor Toris knew what it meant, but there was no doubt that it was dirty. Their expressions didn't change, Ivan smiling and Toris frowning, but the orderly relented first with a sigh.

"Fine, I'll get you a towel. Get your clothes, alright?" Ivan nodded obediently, and Toris turned away, putting his headband back on. Ivan hated to run; he didn't like the way his stomach gave a little jiggle when he did. But he had no choice, hurrying off to his room. He was eager to bathe because it meant he got to be alone with Toris, of course! He hated being naked, especially while sitting in reflective water, but if he could just concentrate on the _good _side… Namely, that was anything but himself. Reaching his room, Ivan walked straight for his little bedside dresser. Lifting the small wooden matryoshka there, he opened it up. Slipping the two pills inside with the others there, he closed it and set it down. He reached into his pocket next, grabbing the plastic chips there, slipping them into his pillowcase. Smiling in satisfaction, he moved to his dresser to grab his clean clothes.

* * *

Toris looked up as the door opened, standing up from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the tub. "I got the water ready for you, hot right?" He said with a slight smile as Ivan closed the door behind him.

"Just right!" Ivan assured, approaching the orderly. Toris held out his arms, accepting the clothing he was handed. Moving over to the rack by the wall, he hung them up. He took Ivan's scarf next, though he kept his back to Ivan as the patient undressed. "Ah… Toris isn't going to watch?" If he didn't know better he would think that Ivan was pouting.

"W-what do you take me for…? I'm not a pervert you know." Toris muttered in reply. Ivan chuckled.

"Of course I know! But I would watch if _Toris _undressed…"

"That doesn't surprise me…" Toris gave sigh of exasperation. The sound of water swishing against the porcelain surface signaled Ivan's entry into the bath, though he heard a small splash and a sound of dismay. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that some of the water was spilling out over the edge. Ivan's expression was absolutely scandalized.

"Toris overfilled it!" He accused, his voice a bit distressed. Toris was surprised for a moment, turning to face the tub.

"I-I did! I'm sorry Ivan, I wasn't thinking. I guess I was a little distracted." He admitted quickly.

"I-it's too full, too much water." Ivan glanced over, his expression… Had Toris ever _seen _that expression before? "It's not my fault." Something struck a chord in Toris' chest, but he couldn't quite understand just what it was. He swallowed, shaking his head.

"Of course it's not! It's mine." Toris touched his chest. "I overfilled it Ivan, I put too much water in." He spoke with emphasis. Ivan's expression was still a little off, and Toris bit his lower lip. Was that not good enough? Slowly though, Ivan seemed to calm, glancing to the head of the tub again. His foot came up to nudge the handle, before he sat back quickly. The water swished and splashed, a good deal of it falling out onto the tiled floor. Toris jumped back to escape having his shoes soaked, watching the water slip down the drains in the floor. Ivan smiled then, relaxing as he lifted up his plastic cup from the little table by the bath. With a sigh of relief, Toris pulled over a bath stool and sat against the wall.

They sat in silence like that for a while, the hollow sound of water sloshing in the tub the only thing breaking the quiet atmosphere. Toris was picking at his nails, and Ivan was rubbing the bar of soap across his arms, blowing bubbles with the lather through his thumb and index finger. After a while, Ivan spoke up. "What do you think of me, Toris?" Toris looked up, frowning slightly. His hesitation prompted the Russian to glance over to him, lifting one eyebrow. "Toris thinks nothing of me?" He teased.

"You know that's not it."

"Then what? Or does Toris want to know what I think of him first?" Ivan smiled, and Toris leaned back against the wall, folding his hands in his lap.

"Go ahead then."

"_Mm, _alright!" Ivan looked back to what he was doing, washing his arms with water now. "Toris is a good person. When he first gave me tea, I thought he could be my friend. When he sang to me that second night, I liked him a lot. When I first kissed him, I knew I wanted him. When I hurt his wrist…" Ivan glanced over to see the orderly reflexively place his hand over the splint. Ivan frowned. "I hated myself." He said a little quieter. Grabbing up the soap again, he lathered it up in his hands. "And then there was the tree… How close I got in the shower…" A swallow. "When he let me kiss him in the closet… I think my heart broke with happiness."

"Ivan…" Toris' own heart was pounding, his face hot.

"A-ah! I'm not done!" Ivan chastised with a smile. Setting the soap aside he brought his hands to his wet hair, spreading the lather there as he closed his eyes. "I wanted you as soon as I saw you, Toris. But when I saw your scars—"

"Don't!"

"When I saw them…" Ivan's hand searched for the cup in the water, finding it and lifting it up. He let it run over his face and hair, shaking his head once the cup was empty. "_Ahh… _When I saw them I knew I would love Toris forever."

"What do you know of love?" Toris blurted out. Ivan looked over, violet eyes a little wide. Toris' face was hot, his hands clenched together in his lap now. "Do you want to know what I think of you Ivan?" Ivan nodded; of course he wanted to know! Toris sighed, turning his head away. "I think you drive me crazy. I think your attention towards me is unhealthy, pushy, and impulsive. I think I could be an object of fascination for you, and that you might one day tire of me. I think you've… pushed so much on me that I think I feel things that I shouldn't—that I don't! How could you love—_aahh_!" Toris stood up when warm water hit his chest, glancing over to the tub in shock. Ivan was frowning, and he dropped the now empty cup to the floor where it clattered. Leaning over the edge with his arms crossed, he spoke up.

"You think I don't know what love is? Why, because I'm _crazy_?"

"Of course not!"

"Oh, then why? Because I'm a man? Because I'm _not right_? Wounded? Because I'm a _murderer_?" Ivan laughed when Toris' expression became one of shock. "You're so easy, Toris." Ivan sighed, running his fingers through his damp bangs and smoothing them back as he shifted his gaze to the floor. "_I'm not a murderer_…" It was a whisper, so small that Toris barely heard it at all.

"But…"

"I'm just damaged, Toris." That violet gaze was back. "Aren't _you_?" He almost seemed to plea, reaching back to his own shoulder. "Your back… I can see it through your eyes." Toris' own hand mimicked Ivan's, moving to his shoulder. The orderly slowly sat back down onto the stool, and Ivan smiled. "Your eyes are my mother's… They're my sister's… They're mine, and of course they're yours." A smile; small and sad. "It's like a secret little society of the damaged ones, those who have seen too much. You think you can hide them, but you can't. _I _can see them. I knew they were there before I found them. Through your eyes." Ivan's hand moved, tapping his temple.

"_Impossible._"

"You came back to me after I hurt you." The corner of Ivan's lips twitched. He sat back again, leaning to press his back against the end of the tub. Letting his head rest on the lip of it, he reached up to cover his eyes. "I can't lose you, Toris. I _can't._ Do you know how long I waited? Years and years and years went by, and no one cared. In Russia, they said I was a criminal. Here, they say I'm just sick. They want to punish me or they want to fix me like a broken music box. But no matter how hard they try, my tune will always be a little warped. Yours too, right?" There was a brief silence.

"…Yes." Toris said quietly. Ivan made a pleased sound, lowering his hands into the water, but his eyes remained closed.

"I _love _Toris. I _need _him to love me. I'll try harder! I'll hold you tight—I'll _never _let you go so long as you're working here!" Ivan's voice was sweet and soft, but Toris could see his shoulders shaking slightly. Toris stood up, and Ivan went still. He didn't open his eyes, not even as he heard those footsteps approaching on the wet floor. A small shift of clothing, and Toris' hand touched Ivan's cheek. Violet eyes opened to meet the green above. Toris' eyes stung with unshed tears, though he was smiling faintly.

"You don't have to try so hard anymore, Ivan. You don't have to make me love you." He shook his head. "I would try and help you even if I didn't. I admit… I _hate _what you've made me feel." Ivan closed his eyes again, pressing his cheek into that warm hand. "I hate that you made me… _damaged _me, feel… _cherished. _You gave me a sliver of something I've never… never had, and you _used it._" Toris swallowed. "If you want to be my friend, then we'll be friends. But that's all. I'm not going to get in over my head, and jump in with both feet when I can't even see the bottom."

"Will you still kiss me?" Ivan asked, his wet hand rising from the water to rest over Toris', eyes half-opening and meeting the ones above him again. Toris gave a small sigh.

"…Yes. Because I'm weak." Ivan smiled.

"You can be weak for me! I'll never hurt you again, Toris. Just like Yao. I can't raise a hand to him, you know. Oh, but I like you more…" Toris smiled now. He leaned down, and Ivan gave a small sound as his damp forehead was kissed.

"I won't hold you to that. If you ever make another mistake… You won't scare me away. I'm going to stay here because it's what I want to do, and nothing you do or say could change that. I'm going to do whatever I can to help you get better… Everyone else, too." Ivan gave a small laugh.

"Toris must think he's God, then."

"No, not anything that great. But, maybe I'll have his help." Ivan frowned, looking unhappy as Toris sat back.

"How can you say that? How can you still believe, after…"

"I'm _here_ aren't I?" Toris smiled. For once, Ivan couldn't argue. Ivan would have called it 'fate', but his mother once said they were the same thing. And he couldn't really argue with his mother—whether she was here or not. Toris stood up, frowning at his own wet shirt. "This is the only one I have you know. Come on, you should get dressed." He turned around to go for the towel.

"Ah, wait!" Toris stopped, looking back. "Toris said he would kiss me…" The smile should have given it away, "But what about touch—"

"_Absolutely not_!"

* * *

For the second time as they exited the bathing room, Yao stood waiting for them. Toris' heart leapt into his throat, wondering just what would have happened if he'd come in on their conversation. Even worse if it had been when Toris was sitting on the side of the tub! He really had to pay more attention and not get himself into situations like that… At least this time he didn't look angry. "Almost time for session, Ivan." Yao said, waving his hand down the hall. "Go wait for me by door. I need talk to Toris." Ivan seemed to almost pout; he didn't want to leave Toris in his doctor's hands. Given no other choice, Ivan sighed and headed down the hall to stand by the door leading to the offices.

"Why do I always feel like I'm in trouble when you want to talk to me…?" Toris was nearly wincing. Yao gave a roll of his eyes.

"No trouble. Heads up. Ivan not sleep last night, he cause all kinds of trouble. He refuse sedation, so he up all night. He disturb other patients, shouting and carrying on."

"But…why?"

"Dreams. He dream when he sleep, and say sedative no work. You know what black out is?"

"Yes, being sedated should keep him from dreaming shouldn't it?" Toris frowned.

"He fight it. Fight it so hard he thinks he dreams when awake." Yao sighed, running his fingers through his bangs. Toris was chewing his lower lip, hesitating to ask just what he was supposed to do about this. Finally Yao looked up, arms crossing. "I talk with Arthur, get it approved. You have best chance. I want you continue check on him at night. Thirty minutes. Get him take medicine, get him sleep, and go back. Got it?"

"Y-you think I can?"

"No." Yao stated bluntly, and Toris frowned even more. "But he no listen to me anymore. Next year is Ivan's last chance! Arthur say if he show no improvement, he move up." Yao pointed to the ceiling. "Up there, he have no freedom. He stay in room, will be restrained, have medicine forced. I no want this!"

"N-neither do I!" Toris agreed, heart pounding. He didn't wish that on anyone! And for Ivan… It would ruin him. Any scraps of sanity he still held on to after this long would be gone. Yao nodded.

"Toris has small heart." Toris blinked.

"Y…You mean a big heart, right?" He hoped at least. Yao waved one hand.

"Yes that. Ivan now restrained at night. Hands and feet, so he no get up and bang on door or break anything. So that it. You understand?"

"I-I think so…" Toris nodded. "Check on him at night, try and get him to take medicine, and when he's asleep I go back to the safe room."

"Yes, good." Yao went to turn, but he paused. His expression was a little uneasy, dark eyes moving the Lithuanian up and down. Toris swallowed, feeling a little self-conscious. "Those look silly." He pointed to Toris' head, and the orderly reached up. Oh, the horns! He sighed.

"I know…" He thought he saw Yao smile for an instant before the doctor turned, heading over to the impatient and fidgeting Ivan standing obediently by the door. Ivan's hair was still damp and astray, and his scarf was wet around his neck from it. Still he smiled to Toris before he disappeared into the open door after Yao.

Toris was nervous about this new little job of his. He'd been visiting Ivan almost every night he stayed overnight anyway, but now he had an extra responsibility. And the added pressure of Yao's timeline didn't help. This was a hard month for Ivan according to Yao's notes. The hardest of the whole year. Toris had no idea what to expect, and he wasn't naïve enough to think that just because the month was almost over that things would be alright. After all, if Ivan was having trouble sleeping again then it meant he was going back and forth.

But hearing Ivan's little speech today had assured him of one thing, and that was that Toris wasn't being selfish. Ivan said he needed him. He _thought _he needed love from Toris, but that wasn't it. He needed someone who gave a damn, who wouldn't give up on him. Ivan had Yao already, but Yao couldn't… _understand, _could he. Toris didn't know how much he believed of Ivan's story about seeing something in his eyes. In fact he was quite afraid to believe it. Wearing his weakness so openly would be a terrible thing. Not everyone would understand it like Ivan did, not everyone could relate. And Toris didn't want pity. He'd made his way here out of pure force of will, and some twisted luck. And Toris… He'd gotten by this far because he didn't _need _anything.

But that didn't mean he couldn't _want _to. To have a little bit of weight lifted from his weary shoulders… To help someone by relating, by telling them how he'd risen above it. Ah, but, he hadn't had he? He wasn't able to escape until his father was dead. He imagined for Ivan it was the same. If he could help heal Ivan's… _damage, _then there would be hope for his own.

_I'm not a murderer. _Toris swore that's what Ivan had said. Did he say that because it was what he had to do? If he wasn't a murderer then why would he let everyone assume that he was? He had to mean he didn't think of himself as one, right? Well, he'd have to ask him tonight.

Today was lax in terms of the patient's classes and chores. Mostly it was free time; the TV was on all day, Antonio had one room open for whatever the patients wanted to do. Music, art, or just to get away from Alfred's loud voice in front of the TV. Aside from medication and meals, free choice and roaming was allowed. The staff however had to pick up some of that slack. Toris didn't mind at all, and he was able to chat with Sarah while they did some laundry. Really the girl was so gossip orientated. But she wasn't offended if Toris just nodded and smiled, so he merely let her control the conversation.

* * *

Ivan hated free time more than anything. And unfortunately, that was all he had today. His private counseling session with Yao had gone nowhere. In fact it was mostly taken up by Yao lecturing him about his behavior the previous night, and telling him that the restraints would now stay. _Great. _That was only going to make the nightmares worse. If they could gag him too he bet they would do it just so they didn't have to hear him suffer. Not that they _cared _that he suffered, they just wished him to do it _quietly._

And that was alright. He didn't expect any of them to care about him. Yao was the first doctor who had ever shown him any kindness at all. The others all gave up in frustration when they couldn't get past Ivan's thick walls. But Yao had hounded him, pressed the limits of his tolerance for questions about himself. That was where the incident with the pen had come in… Ivan still felt bad about that. Yao had gone out of his way to help him, and he'd stabbed the man. As a result he'd physically refused to give in to any more anger against the doctor.

Antonio had never gotten on his bad side enough to earn himself any kind of violent reaction from Ivan. Arthur though, he'd come very close. Gotten right up into Ivan's face with that finger of his, lecturing him on this or that. One punch to that irritating face would have gotten Ivan a one way ticket to Level Two, so he resisted thus far. Oh, but orderlies. Orderlies were free game. Except for the women… He could shout at them, slap the medicine and water from their hands, but he could _never _raise his hand to them.

Ivan sat quietly in the corner of the room that Antonio had let them wander in. He didn't mind the Spanish doctor's songs, so he content himself with listening to them. Toris came in and out a few times, whenever he had a free moment it seemed, and he'd give Ivan a smile.

Lunchtime pills had been easy to pocket. And with so much free time, he'd gotten them too his room quite easily. What do you know, _one _thing that free time was good for, and it was something they wanted the least! It was enough to amuse the Russian. And _oh, _Toris gave him such sweet smiles whenever Ivan caught his gaze. The orderly really was a God send. A welcome sight; a small spot of light. And Ivan supposed that the best part of being in an institution was that no matter how quickly or how hard he fell into obsession with someone, it was 'normal'.

That night, Ivan willingly let himself be restrained. The padding on the wrist and ankle restraints were a bit course from age, but they were enough to keep him from doing much more than giving himself a bit of a burn from chafing if he struggled in them. Sarah was kind enough to tuck the blanket in around his feet, and he thanked her sweetly with a smile. Ah, now the waiting came… Yao had told him about Toris' new visits. Not that they would be _new, _but now they were _expected. _Of course the doctor had been very adamant about _behaving himself. _Honestly, like he had to tell him? What was he going to do, jump his little orderly and run the risk of frightening him off? That was the _last _thing that he wanted!

Francis had told him once, seduction had to be subtle. Well, he'd blown that part already… But he could try again! Now that he had Toris' full attention, his affection, he could continue. _Draw __**them**__ to__** you**__, _Francis had said, _pursuing them is too aggressive. _He'd made the first steps, and Toris had admitted one vital bit of detail: He was addicted to Ivan's ability to make him feel _cherished. _Such a cute word Toris had chosen for _desired. _Ah, he was ruining the little orderly. Infecting Toris with his own twisted need. Ivan _should _feel guilty… But it felt so _good _to have someone after all this time, to look at him and feel _empathy_ and _not_ pity or distaste. He closed his eyes, trying so hard to be patient, not to scream…

Eyes snapped open when the door creaked. Lifting his head a little, he smiled to see Toris slip inside. Had he fallen asleep? He'd been so anxious that he hadn't dreamed, if he had. Toris approached the bed, setting the cup of water on the bedside table and turning on the lamp. He looked down, almost jumping when he saw that Ivan's eyes were open. "Oh, you're awake." He said in surprise.

"Of course. I couldn't wait to see you."

"I need you to take this pill, Ivan." Toris picked a small blue pill up from the other cup. Ivan frowned, pulling at his wrist restraints.

"Undo them."

"I can't do that Ivan." Toris said, but he took a seat on the side of the bed, close enough that Ivan's arm touched him.

"You don't trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Set the pill down—just for a moment. Reach into my pillowcase." Ivan directed. Toris frowned a little, but he set the pill down beside the cup. Reaching into Ivan's pillowcase, his eyes widened a little when he felt the plastic objects. Pulling them out, he looked down at the light blue chips.

"Three of them." Toris said quietly, and Ivan smiled proudly. "I suppose you get your rewards then."

"Take your hair down!" Ivan said first. Toris set the chips onto the table, sitting up to pull out his hair tie, sliding it into his pocket. "Ah…" Ivan frowned in concentration. "…Release me." Toris shook his head. Ivan sighed in frustration, but then he paused. "…Kiss me!" He stated suddenly. Toris leaned down, but he was stopped by Ivan again. "On the neck."

"Ah…" Toris hesitated now, looking at Ivan's face and searching his expression. Ivan licked his lips, his voice quiet.

"…_Please._" He asked. Toris swallowed, leaning down and placing one hand on the other side of Ivan's chest. Ivan's eyes closed when warm breath brushed his neck as Toris pulled down the scarf. _Ah, _his neck was so _sensitive… _Warm lips touched, and Ivan's lips parted for a silent gasp. They touched again, and again, small pecks which traveled from the corner of his chin to the crook of his neck. "_Ah…haa…_" His breath was very quiet, but it was audible. Toris paused when he heard them. After a brief moment of hesitation, he started again. This time there was a dampness to those kisses, and Ivan fingers curled up into the sheets. Those warm lips sealed for a small, soft suck, and Ivan's back tensed, arching just a little. He tilted his head to the side, giving Toris full access. But maybe that was a mistake…

Right at the crook of his neck, almost his shoulder, Toris' next kiss touched his burn scar. Ivan's hands tugged at the restrains, but he didn't protest other than for a small whine. Toris didn't shy away from it—he didn't hesitate. He kissed it again, so tenderly that Ivan's next breath shuddered. He _hated _to have that scar exposed… Everyone would stare, or worse, ask about it. Toris _knew _what it was from… He knew Toris thought he was a murderer, that's what the file said. "_My lips… Kiss my lips, Toris…Please, kiss me…_"

And Toris did. Lips pressed against his own, and he could feel the heat from Toris' chest so close to his. His heart was pumping wildly, and he knew that Toris' must be too. He didn't know who had made the first move, but their tongues met suddenly. Toris didn't relent to the kiss this time, he _gave. _Ah, how well Francis' advice had worked! Ivan wanted to touch! To tug that body against his own—and yet he knew that if he did, if he could have, he would have hurt the smaller man. The kiss broke, both parties panting heavily. He opened his violet eyes to meet the green ones hovering above his own. So… Toris was more comfortable when he had control of the situation? Ivan supposed he _was _intimidating… He smiled as Toris sat back, averting his eyes and lifting his hand to wipe his lips with the back of it.

"That was three." Toris stated, still a little breathless. Ivan's eyes widened a little. He'd just been defeated in his own game, hadn't he? Well there went _touching… _He'd have to get more chips somehow… Swallowing visibly, Toris picked up the pill. Ivan turned his head away. "Ivan… If you don't take this, I'll get into trouble." Ivan glanced back, frowning.

"…Don't be cruel, Toris."

"Cruel?" Toris frowned now.

"You don't think it is? When Toris asks me… It's hard to say no."

"Then please take it."

"But the dreams…"

"This will keep them away. I promise. And I'll be right down the hall, and if you _do _dream, I'll come and wake you up. And don't worry; I'll stay with you until you fall asleep." Toris smiled, reaching out to brush Ivan's bangs from his eyes. Ivan's expression wasn't happy, but he gave a dramatic sigh.

"…Fine." Ivan agreed. Toris picked up the cup and Ivan held out his tongue. Placing the pill onto it, he helped Ivan sit up as much as he could to drink the water. Toris pulled back the cup as Ivan swallowed, letting him lay back again. Ivan noticed the look that he was getting, and he opened his mouth, lifting his tongue. Toris smiled, giving a small nod. Setting the cup down, he turned off the light.

"Lay with me?" Ivan asked quietly. Toris hesitated for a moment, but he turned his body the next moment. Lying out along Ivan's side, the Russian's fingers moved to brush Toris' thigh. Toris gave a jolt.

"H-hey! I'll get up!"

"I'm sorry." Ivan's sweet voice stated, so evident that he wasn't sorry at all. Violet eyes close, his smile so wide it almost hurt. He listened to the sound of Toris' breath, feeling it against his cheek ever so slightly. Toris' arm was on his shoulder, such warm skin and light weight.

"…You said you weren't a murderer."

"Ah…" Ivan's eyes opened. "Did I? And you believed me? Haha…Of course I am one." Toris was quiet for a moment.

"…I am too." Ivan turned his face, and he could just make out Toris' in the dark. "Every day I wished my father would die. Every day, I prayed for God to take him away. And one day… He did." Ivan gave a quiet laugh.

"That doesn't make you a murderer."

"Doesn't it? I _wanted _to kill him. I wanted it so much that he died. Like a curse." There was a small silence. "Do you think differently about me now? I'm not so perfect and happy… Am I now?"

"_Mn,_" Ivan shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "_I love Toris even more. But… Toris isn't afraid if I'm a murderer_?"

"…I don't think… you're any more of a murderer than I am."

"You're wrong."

"Maybe…" Toris' hand reached out, brushing Ivan's bangs again. "Go to sleep, Ivan. I'm not afraid." Ivan sighed, but he closed his eyes and turned his head back to the ceiling. His chest was aching now, and he fought to keep it inside.

"I love you, Toris."

"I know."

"Does Toris love me?"

"…Mm. Who knows?" Ivan smiled again, and Toris' hand reached down to rest over the Russian's. Their fingers laced together.

"Ah, it's after midnight. Merry Christmas Toris."

"This isn't your Christmas."

"But it's Toris'!" Ivan defended, and Toris chuckled.

"_Spokoynoy nochi'_, Ivan."

"_Spokoynoy nochi', _Toris." And with the feeling of that warm hand in his own, the feel of breath on his face, and a body against his own for the first time in eight years… Ivan drifted into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

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December marks the one year anniversary for this fic! Though I brought it to ff. net on Feb 16th (Toris' bday!) I originally wrote it in December of 09. Man... I feel like I've gotten nothing done :( Thank you to all of you who have kept with me from the beginning, and to those of you who are newer to the fic! Bear with me, now that my plot is actually moving there's a lot to look forward to! I hit a major writers block getting over this hurdle for some reason, but I did it in the end!

A quick note. I realized the other day that I'd been spelling Toris' last name wrong for quite some time. From here on out I will spell it Laurinaitis instead of Lorinaitis. As for Ivan's name, I finally shifted to Braginsky after a discussion with a Russian friend. Small changes, but I just wanted to point them out incase anyone noticed. Sorry for any mistakes in this chapter, I rushed a little to get this out before Christmas! Remember that if you have a question, or an issue to discuss with me, SIGN your reviews so I can respond to you! :)


	13. Chapter 13

A/N

On my front page of my profile is a link to my DA where I will have journals and hold polls about this fic and others. Feel free to check it out and watch me there, as sometimes what I have to say is more than I can fit in this small space!

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_They never did things like they were supposed to in this family. The Laurinaitis household was always a bit backwards, or maybe it just seemed lazy. Tradition had died along with his grandmother Emilija. This made the second Christmas that they would spend without it, without _her_. His father hadn't come home last night, not that there had been anything to come home _to. _Toris' mother, Agné, had stayed in bed all day. It was Emilija that used to do the cooking, and all of the children would join in. Emilija always treated Eduard and Raivis as her own, even if they were brought into the family._

_It was very possible that laughter hadn't been heard in the household ever since her passing. It was she who could always laugh the loudest, and it was always with her laugh that the children's would follow. Toris was 15 now and old enough to understand that he knew more than he should at this age. He knew all about where money came from, when best to do the shopping, and how to get the best deals for groceries. He could buy everything the household needed, keep tabs on what they were low on and knew what they had to live without. Toris could cook anything in his grandmother's book without checking the recipe._

_He knew about broken families, about the seven vices in the bible. Toris' father condemned his own mother for her affair when he was a child, for loving that nameless Russian man. And yet it was Toris who washed the clothing in the house, who saw the makeup and smelled the booze and perfume on his father's clothing. His mother didn't own makeup, and she didn't wear perfume. His father's boasting at the dinner table, slamming his fist down to accentuate his points and in the process spilling whatever happened to be in his way. His own brothers were the product of greed, his father taking in orphans to get money from the government. Money that he didn't have to work for, money that he could use for more of his liquid poison. And oh how he would rant. Anyone and everyone had it better than he did. Toris' father, Janis, he was a jealous man. There was never a day that Toris could remember that someone in the family went without a bruise. Even if it was Janis himself who had simply gotten drunk in a bar and been escorted home by the police, or his military buddies again. No one looked twice. Not strangers, not teachers, and not friends—what little they had._

_Right now, Toris was cooking. He'd wanted to cook yesterday, but he didn't want to wake his mother. She was awake now, in the living room listening to the radio while she lay out on the couch. It was her that had said she was hungry, and Toris had taken the chance to venture into the kitchen. Eduard and Raivis were chattering behind him, sitting at the table. They couldn't watch television while Agné was in the living room with the radio. They were talking about school, and Eduard was announcing a little moment of his own pride when he had caught his teacher contradicting herself. Toris' middle brother was a handful for his teachers and he was only 13! The water was boiling, and Toris had just finished stuffing the dough for the dumplings. He wiped off his hands with a wet cloth, and that's when they all heard the car pull into the driveway._

_The sound of his mother's bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors as she rushed into the kitchen echoed through the small house. Her long brown hair was mussed from her lazing on the couch, but her blue eyes were wide and alert. _"Let me!" _She called out as she hurried over to the stove. The car door slammed shut from outside. Agné reached out, grasping the handle of the pot and jerking it back a little as if to pull it away from her son._

"Be careful!" _Toris warned, grasping the handle higher up. But his mother struck his wrist with her free hand, only a tap._

"No, let go! Let me do it!"

"M-mom, if I let go right now you'll pull it off! Just stop—_ah_!" _Toris gave a cry as the water splashed with that last jerk of her hand and his mother let go. Toris was able to put the pot back over the burner before he let go, shaking his hand where the water had splashed the back of it. The door opened, and it drew all eyes to the man who stepped inside. Janis was a tall man, his build what you would expect from a man with so many years in the military. That is, he wasn't buff, but he wasn't lanky either. The man's hair was a dark brown, almost black, and cut short. His eyes, which always seemed perpetually angry, were green. It was something Toris always regretted._

"What's going on?" _Janis muttered as he shut the door behind him, hanging up his coat and moving over to the fridge near them. His clothing was dirty; he hadn't changed at all yesterday by the looks of it. The shadows under his eyes and the reddish tint around his irises attested to his hangover. Toris' mother spoke up with the very next breath._

"It's Toris, I was cooking and he distracted me." _She gave a high, tense laugh. _"Your mother convinced him he's a woman you know! He still thinks he should cook." _Janis opened the fridge, grabbing a beer and pulling it out, closing the fridge door with his foot. Opening the cap with his hands, he took the final two steps over to his wife and son. Green eyes shifted over to Toris' own, a frown in place._

"That what you did?" _Janis asked. Toris swallowed, not even glancing to his mother. He didn't have to see her to know that she was tense, breathing shallow, her mind racing just like his own. They both knew it: one of them was going to take the fall. His mother had simply decided who. Behind them, Eduard and Raivis were quietly edging off their seats to sneak off into the bedroom. Giving a nod, Toris lowered his eyes._

"Yes sir." _He said firmly. He didn't wince, it would happen if he did or not. Janis' hand struck heavily, his palm right over Toris' left ear. It jolted his orientation, throwing off his balance for a moment. Toris managed to grasp the handle of the oven and not the hot stove in order to stay on his feet. It didn't matter in the next moment, as he felt fingers curl into his hair. Toris didn't do more than give a small grunt of pain as he was pulled up straight, wincing as he met his father's eyes again. Janis was so close Toris could _smell _the alcohol, and most of it was yesterday's._

"You think you're a girl, huh? Is that why your hair's so long? The hell's wrong with you, boy? I didn't raise you to be a fucking _sissy, _did I? God must have cursed me to give me a son who doesn't even know what his dick is for!" _Janis pulled, thankfully guiding Toris _away _from the stove. He gave a shove as he let go, and Toris stumbled to stand upright, catching himself on the kitchen table. _"Quit school and get a fucking _job, _you worthless little shit." _Toris didn't bother to respond, it wouldn't do any good. 'Yes sir, I'll do that sir, of course you're right.' He'd said it all before, but he had no intention of _doing _it. School was the very thing he needed to break free of all of this!_

_But Janis only drank from his beer, moving into the living room. Toris' mother turned her eyes to him, but he didn't return the look. He didn't care if she was feeling guilty. His head was pounding from being hit, and his scalp stung from being pulled at, and worst of all the burn on his hand was throbbing. But if he had argued, said it wasn't his fault, either one of them would have gotten it worse for 'lying' or they both would have been hit. The footsteps returned soon after, and Janis was heading for the door with a fresh pair of clothing under his arm. _"Janis! No, where are you going?" _Agné shouted, but she didn't move from her position by the stove. _"It is Diana? Asya? You _bastard_!" _She turned to grab the plate when Janis grabbed a hold of the door handle. Before Toris could even call for her to stop she pulled, and half of the uncooked dumplings slid off onto the counter. The other half hit the floor as the plate flew into the door that her husband had just ducked out of, shattering into pieces._

_Agné let out a long wail, high and not unlike a screech. She turned away and ran, through the living room, to the bedroom where she slammed the door. Toris stood with his eyes closed, leaning on the kitchen table. Half of the dumplings would be salvageable, the ones that had landed on the counter. He could make some soup to go with them, maybe a little chilled borscht. But first he had to take care of his hand, and tell his brothers that it was alright to come out. And then he would set about cleaning the kitchen of this mess. With a set plan, he gave a small sigh. _"Merry Christmas, Emilija…" _He whispered. Opening his eyes, Toris set out to follow his plan._

Only the chipped paint of the ceiling greeted Toris as he opened his eyes presently. How annoying, to think of something like that now. Yesterday had been so nice, last night too… With a heavy sigh, Toris pushed himself out of bed. He had to heat up some leftovers and greet his brothers so that they could open their gifts. They didn't have much of course, but they'd all been able to get each other something. And then there was work, but he _did _have Saturday off! Toris planned to unwind, spent time with his brothers and Feliks. He _did _need to reconnect with his oldest friend, he agreed with that much. Now that his own feelings were a bit better sorted out, everything should start to fall back into place.

x_x_x_x

_Natalya's music box was beautiful. If only Ivan could see it. Oh, he could _then, _but not now. It had been much too long for that. Natalya's pretty face had remained calm as she stared at it, but Katya had cried. Their mother had bought it before she died three months ago. Vikenty, Ivan's father, had shouted at Katya for her tears. The words weren't important, and so Ivan had tuned them out. Natalya was opening the box—Ivan could remember that it was shiny. A little porcelain ballerina in a silk and lace dress popped up, and music began to play._

_The little ballerina's face was painted so delicately! Pretty pink lips and blue eyes on shiny white skin. It was such an expensive gift… Natalya had always wanted to be a ballerina, right? Ivan was delighted for her. He loved to watch his little sister dance, even if he was secretly a little envious. _"Dance for us!" _Vikenty had told Natalya; or something to that effect. Natalya had stood up on her skinny little legs, in her pretty blue silk nightgown, and she had danced to the shrill music of the box. Her form was perfect, her body stiff but graceful… She was only 12, but she danced like a professional—she had already won an award!_

_Around and around she went, just like the little doll. Katya was clapping, singing softly to the music. Vikenty was smiling, though it was probably more because of the nearly empty bottle of good vodka beside him than for any other reason. But then Natalya turned her head as she rose up onto her right leg, toes perfectly straight as her left knee bent up. She caught her brother's smile, and her stoic expression changed. She smiled, as if she might actually laugh. Just as she did, Ivan's smile vanished. Before Natalya even knew that she was falling, Ivan was moving to catch her. _"Oh no!" _Katya gasped as Ivan landed heavily on his knees, his younger sister cradled protectively in his arms. What if she had twisted her ankle? Such a small mistake and her precious future career…_

"What the hell is wrong with you?" _The angry voice had startled all of them. Ivan had let Natalya down, though she seemed unwilling to unwind her arms from around his neck. Vikenty rose up, setting his glass down heavily, and Ivan set his hands around Natalya's waist to pry her off. Katya's arms were already out to receive her, though Natalya gave a sound of protest._ "Do you have any idea how expensive that music box was?" _Oh, that? Ivan glanced down to where his left knee had landed. The box still played, but he must have landed on the corner of it because one wooden leg had snapped in half. Oh, it was wooden, right? Just as he lifted his head, Ivan felt pain blossom across his left cheek._

_He didn't fall. He was too __**big **__for one of his father's blows to topple him anymore. _"Papa, she was falling!" _Katya spoke up at once, but Vikenty didn't even pause. He wasn't satisfied that Ivan hadn't gone down, and so he used his foot instead. The kick hit Ivan in the stomach, but it only made his son wrap his arms around it, giving a cough._

"You know how much trouble your mother went through to pick that out? _Huh_? You spoiled little _bastard_! Do you think I have money to throw away?" _There was another hit, this one with his open palm at least. Ivan could taste the blood on the inside of his cheek._

"Ah, Natalya no!" _Katya's voice drew both of their attention. Ivan's youngest sister had raced back over to them, and she lifted her music box from the floor. Ivan gasped as she raised it over her head, her expression strangely twisted. He opened his own mouth to protest, _not the box! This isn't the box's fault!, _but Vikenty was faster. He grasped her little wrist in one giant hand, snatching the music box away with the other. Natalya didn't even give a sound of pain, but her expression said it all._

"What is this? You're all out to ruin me! Is this how you show your appreciation for all I do for you? You're all just like your mother! Useless, money sucking little bitches! I should—!"

"Get your hand off of her! I broke it, not Natasha!" _Ivan spoke up finally, and just as he knew it would, it got his father's attention back. Vikenty released Natalya's wrist and he shoved the music box into Katya's hands._

"Put this on my desk, I'll fix it later. And finish with breakfast; I have _work _to do today!" _Those cold, steel-blue eyes turned back to Ivan. _"You, go up to your room! I'll come up when I have the time to remind my arrogant and ungrateful excuse for a son who the head of this house is! Until then, you'll have time to think about exactly what I provide for you and why you should be respectful!" _The message was clear; they'd been through this before. To 'remind him' why he should be 'grateful', that meant that Ivan would spent the day sitting in his room. He would take off his clothing, clothing his father had bought, and he would sit on his floor. The bed, well, his father had bought that. And Vikenty had bought anything that he might have covered up with, too. Ivan would wait, without food or drink, for his father to come and 'talk' with him. Vikenty didn't 'talk' without a belt or a rod in his hand, of course._

_There was nothing out of the ordinary about the day, really. The only addition was the music box. But then, it was New Years, and gifts were to be expected. Oh, for his sisters of course. Men didn't need gifts—that would only spoil them! Though his mother had always bought him something, that was over now. His mother was gone._

Currently, Ivan could do nothing but glare at everyone whenever they got loud again. Today was another free day, and he hated it. This wasn't his Christmas, and it wasn't his new year's either! Today was just another day. And even if it _was _one of his holidays, there wasn't anything to celebrate. They were all fools. How could they smile like they were? Didn't they realize where they _were_? They were in a _mental institution. _This was a _prison, _and not a resort like some of them seemed to think…

There was Alfred, who was never gone for more than three months. The American was in and out, and _always _on the hunt for attention. Every time he came back it was the same. He would get a little better by the end, and he'd end up promising Arthur he'd be better. He would leave, and Ivan supposed he behaved himself for a while. But then the day would come when Arthur came into the common room cursing, and Alfred would be back again. A menace to the public. Right now, Alfred was sitting on the back of the couch and laughing loudly at the TV special that was on.

Francis was even worse. Francis had a job, no, a career. He was successful and wealthy, and he had a lot of charisma. He had a lover… Didn't he? That little blond man who came in sometimes, and who avoided Alfred at all costs? Matthew? Or maybe Ivan was wrong, because sometimes Francis would go into great detail when telling stories of his childhood with Arthur that seemed to suggest the two might have been intimate. Francis would have you believe that he slept with _everyone, _but Ivan knew this wasn't true. Francis had a _life… _His 'illness', he said, was wanting to have sex with everyone. Ivan thought he was just greedy. Francis sat next to Alfred right now, picking at his nails.

And then there was Lovino. Maybe that one understood what life here was like. He was angry all the time, and he lashed out quite often. Quick to violence, even towards his own brother when Feliciano visited. And towards Antonio, and now that one really confused Ivan. How could anyone be mad at _Antonio_? He was the nicest doctor that Ivan had ever met! He called the patients his friends, and… he _sang_! But sometimes Lovino's face would get red around Antonio, and he would give in and behave for him. Lovino seemed to be angry with his life here, but he didn't seem to _hate _it… Currently, Lovino was muttering to himself on the loveseat, arms crossed.

Gilbert, the white-haired German. Ivan never knew what to think of Gilbert. Regardless of what he and the man argued about, Ivan quite liked Gilbert. He was fun to antagonize, after all. Not quite as fun as Alfred, but close. All he had to do was sit in 'Fritz's' seat to get a rise out of the German. But Gilbert might be the only one who _understood. _Ivan could remember the orderly Elizaveta. She let Ivan call her Liz! She knew Gilbert, though she never said exactly how. He had said something to her just before she slugged him in the jaw. 'He'll never really love you, you know that right? Give up and…' Ivan had never gotten to hear the rest of that, on account of Liz's fist stopping the next words from exiting those pale lips. Ivan worried she'd been fired for a while, but then he heard she was back, but in the female wing.

Right now Gilbert sat next to Feliciano, whose expression was curiously serious. His hand was on Gilbert's arm, and he was begging him for something, but it was in German. Feliciano looked ready to cry, and that was a shame. The Italian was usually such a little ball of light! "I only need _Fritz._" He heard Gilbert growl at last. And now Feliciano _might _be crying. Ivan wasn't sure, but he was distracted by movement near the door. Ah! Violet eyes lit up when he saw his Toris come inside, but he frowned when he was followed by a tall blond man.

"_Ludwig_!" Feliciano called out. Ivan could _swear _that he saw Gilbert's face loose color—if that was possible! The little Italian got up and rushed over, while in the mean time Lovino covered his ears and closed his eyes. Such an _interesting _little play… Toris said his goodbyes to the German, and Ivan caught his gaze briefly. Toris looked…_tense_? But he returned Ivan's smile, rushing off into the safe room. Ivan had lost interest in anyone else already, but it was impossible to ignore. Alfred shouting, wanting to know who the new person was, Francis whistling in appreciation at this… 'Ludwig's' body. Oh! It must be Gilbert's brother!

Ivan covered his ears at the chaos, closing his eyes. He began to hum to himself, in an attempt to drown out the loud voices. His irritation was rising along with his pounding heart. He _hated _shouting! Why did anyone ever have to shout! _Stupid _Alfred, stupid Lovino now too! One loud voice overruled them all though, and Ivan glanced back over. Arthur had come in, and he was barking orders like he… Well, he _did _sort of own the place. Everyone sobered up then, and though Ivan couldn't hear everything that was said from his little corner, Gilbert seemed to agree to go to the visiting area with Ludwig and Feliciano. Ah, how nice for him.

Ivan was happy for Gilbert. _Really, _he was! He would never _say _it… Lovino too. So happy, he could just… _shout. _Or punch them. Those spoiled little brats! How could he think that they understood, even for a moment? _No one _understood. Ah, not even his precious Toris understood _this… _The absence of family.

Ivan _hated _this season.

x_x_x_x

Just like that, Christmas came and went. In the end, it was just another day. When it was over, nothing had really changed. All except for Gilbert, who had ended up confined to his room the next day. They said it was about his medication, that they were increasing it and they weren't sure how he was going to handle it. Toris spent his day off doing what he hadn't been able to in a long time now.

He _breathed. _Winter break was in full effect, and he had no class. No class, no work, and chasing away the melancholy of the season, he had gone out. Toris and his brothers had invited Tino and Feliks over, and they all went window shopping. All of them being students, it wasn't as if they had much money… But they could look! They ate out, they rented a movie, and they went back to the brothers' apartment to watch it. For the first time in a long time, Toris thought of nothing except for the people right in front of him. Not school or work, not even _Ivan. _He no longer questioned Ivan's 'love' for him. He liked the Russian, and Ivan liked him. Toris was going to let it play out, but everything had its place.

School would be school, and work would be work. Well, he supposed that school and work had a little to do with each other… But Toris was no longer going to allow his strife over those two things to ruin his social life! That was the plan, anyway! Any time someone mentioned his job Toris would shake his head and say it was 'Confidential.' Tino thought it was funny, but Feliks quickly got annoyed. He dropped it as soon as Toris slipped in a casual comment about _liking _someone there. As for Feliks' confession, Feliks himself acted as if he'd forgotten all about it. Toris was relieved to find that things weren't awkward at all between them, not that he could tell. They were _friends _again.

By the time the day was over, and Toris was collapsing into bed exhausted, his chest felt so full that it could burst. He had a bit of energy now that he hadn't had for a while. Perhaps nothing had really changed at all, and he had just _adapted. _He was good at that. Little did he know how much he would need every bit of that energy to make it through the last passing days of this year…

x_x_x_x

There was something… _different _about Ivan lately. Toris couldn't quite pin it down, but it was noticeable to him. He hid it well enough from everyone else though, so it could have been only Toris that saw it. No no, he didn't _see _it… He _felt _it. Every moment Ivan caught him alone, Toris was in dire jeopardy of breaking his 'not getting in over his head' rule! Sunday, Ivan had caught him in the closet again. Even as the Russian trembled from whatever trauma he had to do with closets, those hands had grasped the smaller man's hips firmly and pulled him against his own. Toris didn't even get a chance to return the kiss before Ivan was pressing it too far, those hands traveling back to grasp the orderly's backside. Toris had backed into a shelf, knocking it off of its hook and sending blankets toppling to the floor with a clatter of the metal rack. Ivan almost got into trouble for that one.

What other orderlies _did _notice was that Ivan was more irritable. He snapped more often than he held his quiet protests, and he'd hit Alfred once. It wasn't anything enough to warrant a consequence, as Alfred had hit back twice as hard, and they'd been broken up before anyone was seriously injured. Both Yao and Arthur chewed them out on that one. And Sunday night, Ivan had been insufferable. Toris was only there for the evening shift and so he wasn't supposed to stay like he could overnight, but Ivan had _begged… _"_Closer, lay against me, please Toris…_!" And Toris had given in, at least until the Russian was asleep.

Monday, it was a shower. Ivan had pinned Toris' back to the wall—oh, not by touching him. First he'd refused a bath, said he wanted to shower. He had undressed, and gotten under the spray of water… And then he'd asked Toris if he ever touched himself. Oh, poor Toris had barely been able to get a word out! His face had flushed all the way to his ears, and Ivan had found this amusing. He'd approached the Lithuanian, placed his hands on either side of Toris' arms, not touching him. Ivan had leaned in close, whispered into his ear… It wasn't until Toris had threatened to call for Yao that he had stopped. Of course he had apologized, given Toris a soft kiss to his cheek, and promised not to do it again. He was 'just curious'.

Toris was at his wits end. He knew very well that some people would see nothing wrong with it. Being physical, that is. Even if it didn't last, whatever they had, pleasure was pleasure. He was sure someone like Francis would say that. Even the normally shy Feliks had told him about a one-week fling he'd had once! But Toris wasn't exactly _experienced_ with things like this. And Tuesday…

Tuesday was an overnight shift. The day had gone well, just like the last two days, only that today Toris had managed not to get himself cornered. Ivan _had _asked for a kiss when he caught Toris putting clean sheets in his room, but he'd backed off when Toris had told him that he either got one now, or tonight. Truth be told Toris had been a bit… _flustered _by that point. While doing laundry in the basement with Sarah after lunch, he'd been told something rather embarrassing. Her gossip today was about what they were doing: laundry. But it was _about _that laundry that had gotten him.

Why Sarah thought that _Toris_ wanted to gossip about what men do when they don't have any other way to relieve sexual frustration was beyond him. She wasn't complaining either, she was actually _amused _over the fact that she often found, ah… _messes _on the sheets and night clothes of the patients when doing their laundry. And of course she couldn't leave it at that! No, Sarah wasn't satisfied until she let Toris know which patients 'left messes' the most. Francis was no shocker, Gilbert was a bit of a surprise, but then—then she mentioned Ivan. _Recently. _'But how?' Toris had asked, 'He's restrained at night!' And Sarah had laughed and shrugged. 'Either he's getting out or he's doing it in the morning!'

Ivan _had _been more… _sexual _lately. Every look, every purposeful brush of their bodies whenever he passed Toris, and of course catching the orderly those two times. He hadn't realized just how dangerous it could have been in the shower room with Ivan! Until now the Russian had respected Toris' hesitation, but now he wasn't so sure if Ivan would. Still, he'd promised the Russian a kiss tonight and he intended to give him one. Ivan would be restrained, what harm could there be?

Shortly after lights out, Toris came in to Ivan's room. Moving over to the side of the bed, he set the cup of water and the pills onto the bedside table before he turned on the small lamp. This time the sight of Ivan's wide awake and smiling face wasn't a surprise at all. Toris had gotten used to the fact that he wouldn't sleep without seeing Toris. The Russian was covered up to his shoulders, waiting patiently.

**[There's a big scene missing here, which is in the process of being edited by me. There might be a slight inconsistency because of this, but don't worry about it, it's not that big! :) ]**

x_x_x_x

For once in his life, Toris didn't over-analyze. Wednesday was another day off, though he felt a bit guilty for it. He'd wanted to see Ivan for his birthday at least, but Yao had assured him that Ivan didn't want to celebrate. All of the orderlies had been treating Toris better lately, now that he thought about it. It was as if he'd passed some sort of marker and now he was 'one of them'. Though most of the time Toris would rather _not _be associated with some of the other orderlies, especially Michael and Brad, it was better than having them purposefully make his job harder.

His first day back was an overnight, and so his heart had pounded all day with anticipation. But Ivan had only smiled warmly at him, and teased Toris no more than normal. And that night's overnight, Ivan had more than behaved. No slipping free of his restraints, and no embarrassing requests. A goodnight kiss, and a '_Please lay beside me._' It was perhaps at that moment that Toris had really felt comfortable with Ivan. He knew very well that the Russian could still do something unpredictable at any moment, but Ivan _had _to know that he was nervous, right? And so he was backing off, giving Toris his space. It was exactly what the orderly needed.

More days passed, and it became something of a routine. Toris supposed that if he hadn't made a connection with Ivan, his days might have gone similar to this. The difference of course was the little affectionate gestures that he shared with Ivan now and then. A stolen kiss, short grip of a hand whenever Ivan had to go somewhere that Toris wasn't. And of course their brief moments at night where Ivan could pretend for even a short moment that he was far, far away from this prison of an institution.

x_x_x_x

Ivan could barely get through the day without getting excited at the _thought _of Toris getting close to him. He always slept better when Toris was there to coax him to sleep. Those were the only nights that he didn't dream…

The nightmares had come back, even without the pills. In fact, it was almost like they were getting _worse_! He had started to hear it during the day, the music. Sometimes someone would drop something, and it would _ping _sharply against the floor, and the music would start. It always frightened him when it did. Ivan would gasp, and cover his ears with his hands. He would hum to himself; do anything to drown it out! And sometimes, he would _see _it… A flicker from the corner of his eyes, and his heart would race. Hands shaking, he would wring them together as he stared in the direction he'd seen the movement, telling himself over and over that there was no fire.

Things had been going so well… He had to smile extra large whenever Toris looked his way just to make sure that the orderly didn't worry. Yao was starting to become a problem however. Just today, he'd demanded that Ivan have a blood test. Damn it all! A blood test meant that he would _know_! And so Ivan resisted as much as he possibly could until they threatened him with being put in solitude. Ivan was left with a bruised arm—damn Dr. Honda took twice to find the vein—and a sour temper. Sarah was easy to fool when he took his medication. A sweet smile and a nice compliment and she had moved on to the next patient. Slipping away to his room, Ivan had picked up his matryoshka of pills.

Perhaps it was simply fate. Or maybe Ivan was being punished for something. But when he lifted the wooden nesting doll by the head, it suddenly decided to open. Violet eyes widened as it split in two before he could manage to stop lifting it, and the bottom half fell away. It hit the floor with a clatter, along with at least a dozen pills. "_Ah_!" Ivan cried out, dropping to his knees quickly. Scrambling to gather all the pills together, he didn't hear the footsteps approaching his room.

"Ivan, are you all…" Those words stopped along with Ivan's heart. Why, God, did it have to be _Toris_? Ivan quickly gathered the pills into his hand, stuffing them back into the matryoshka. He closed it up before he stood, turning around to see Toris coming closer with a worried frown. "Ivan, I saw those…"

"_Nyet!_" Ivan shook his head, reaching out to take a hold of Toris' good wrist. Not the splint, anywhere but there. "Toris, I'm fine right? I've been so good; I haven't bothered you or gotten into a fight…!"

"Th-that doesn't mean you can choose to stop taking your medication, Ivan! You've been lying to me, tricking me." Toris was frowning more, and he tried to pull his arm away. Instead, Ivan pulled that smaller body around, pushing it back until Toris was forced to sit onto the bed. "I-Ivan, please let go! I have to…"

"_Nyet, _Toris! You don't have to tell! I'll start taking them, alright?" Ivan smiled wide, his voice strained. "I'll take them from now on, I won't skip anymore!" Yao would already know he had skipped some by the blood test, but if he knew how many he was going to be furious! They would start sedating him by needle, and raiding his room regularly to look for more! Every single time he took a pill he was going to have to suffer through Yao's little oral inspections to make sure that he swallowed. He'd teased Toris about checking with his finger before, but Yao would really do it! Of course it was all very professional, rubber glove and a Popsicle stick, but that didn't mean it was any less invasive!

"I can't keep this to myself, I'd lose my job! Ah!" Toris leaned back as Ivan leaned forward, swallowing as heat flooded his face. Just as Ivan made to speak again there was another voice from the doorway.

"What the hell?" A male voice muttered. Both of the room's occupants glanced to the door to see Michael standing there, frowning. "Get the fuck off of him, you fag!" Michael said as he approached them. Ivan's eyes widened, and he vaguely heard Toris give a small gasp. Releasing Toris' wrist, Ivan set the matryoshka on the bedside table as he moved to meet the orderly at the middle of his room. Michael reached out, but Ivan was quicker. His fist crashed into Michael's jaw, and the smaller man went down. Toris was on his feet, and he was shouting something that Ivan couldn't quite make out right now. Toris grabbed onto Ivan's arm, but the Russian shook him off easily. Unfortunately Toris stumbled backwards from that, and he hit the bedside table with his hip. Several trinkets went clattering to the floor, the matryoshka among them. It snapped open again, and Ivan nearly groaned.

"_Michael_!" It was Toris' shout that roused him again, and Ivan turned just in time to catch the blow to his cheek. "What the hell are you thinking, _stop_!" The pain only encouraged the Russian, made his senses clear again. He grabbed a hold of Michael's shirt with his fist as he let the other one fly.

Toris was still shouting, but he ran to the door this time. He was calling for help, and he was shouting at them to stop. There were tears in those pretty green eyes, but not even the stubborn Toris was stupid enough to get in the middle of two brawling idiots. Not with his smaller stature and sprained wrist, he wouldn't stand a chance! And if Toris was injured again, Ivan didn't think he'd forgive himself, and so he was glad.

It took Jeff, Brad, _and _Shaun to break the two of them up. Once Michael was shoved back the three larger men wrestled Ivan to the floor. It was cold and hard under him, and their elbows and knees bruised Ivan's shoulders and thighs as they held him down. But his blood was still burning, and he fought with every last bit of energy that he had! Finally Sarah rushed in with a needle, and Ivan hissed as he felt it stick into his thigh. With a few moments he felt his vision getting fuzzy, and his heart began to slow back down. He couldn't remember much after that.

But he did get a look at Toris' face when they lifted him up to drag him off. Toris looked so sad… Ivan had smiled his best, though it stung his split lip. Siberia, right? He was going to Siberia. But it was alright, Toris would take care of him. Toris would visit him. It wouldn't be cold there, and he wouldn't be alone. Toris would help him… He _had _to. Ivan recalled the sound of the pills clattering onto the floor, and music began to play in his mind. His smile fell.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N

Thank you and hello to all the new watchers! Quiet or not, I appreciate the favs and alerts! So sorry that this chapter didn't get much done. Right now on my DA I'm running a poll as to whether you prefer short chapters often, or longer chapters less often (once a month like they have been). Go and vote, or tell me in a review which you prefer if any!

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Chaos had come to the Kirkland Institution for the Mentally Ill.

Patients were shouting while orderlies and security were scrambling to keep things in order. Some of them had questions, and some of them were simply protesting at the level of noise and commotion that was going on. It was Alfred who caught sight of the blood on Ivan's fist and face and raised the initial alarm. Francis had to hold him back from rushing over to the scene, though he kept asking if Ivan was alright. Gilbert was shouting at the security man guard who had come to help, blocking off the hallway and therefore the patients rooms for now. One of them made the mistake of grasping Lovino's shoulder when he got too close, and Antonio had thankfully arrived in time to hold him back from making his own mistake.

And as for Toris, the newest orderly sat on Ivan's bed with his head in his hands. Pills littered the floor at his shoes, and some of them had been crushed by the feet of those who had come in to control the Russian patient. Toris was in a slight state of shock, or maybe it was just a very strong dismay. Everything had been going so _well…_! Sarah placed her hand onto his shoulder, asking him in soft tones if he was alright, if he'd been hurt. Toris could only shake his head, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand before the gathered tears could fall. The light glinted off of the syringe she still held, and he felt his heavy heart breaking. Last time that Ivan had been pulled towards solitary he had been shouting, but now he was silent. Toris knew that nothing had changed with how he felt about being put in solitude, and so all of that fear and anxiety had simply been drugged down for now. Michael was cursing as Dr. Honda tilted his head from side to side with one gloved hand on his chin.

"It's broken." Kiku announced, and Michael hissed as his nose was touched, jerking back.

"Of course it is, that son of a bitch hits hard!" Michael muttered, shaking his hand. "Crazy fucker attacked me! I tried to get him off of Toris and he just snapped! He just kept hitting me, I had to—!" Toris' head shot up, and he stood quickly.

"No, that's not how it happened!" He protested, nearly shouting to be heard over all the noise down the hall. Michael turned his glare to him now, snatching a tissue that Kiku was offering him and holding it to his nose gently.

"You're confused. It happens. This is the first fight that you've—."

"No, no I'm _not _confused!" Toris frowned, feeling his anger rising. "Ivan _did _hit you, he hit you _once_! It was _you _who attacked him again after that!"

"He went back for you!"

"Nonsense! Ivan wouldn't have…!"

"Take a good look at your wrist, Toris! That freak is dangerous, don't protect him!"

"I will _not _stand here and listen to you _lie—_!"

"What the _bloody _hell is going on here?" A new voice spoke up, and it was louder than everyone else's. Arthur stepped into the doorway then, taking a quick glance about the room. He gave a quick huff of breath, glancing behind him to where Yao stood with a curiously straight expression. "Go and look after him. Take another look at those blood results as well." Arthur glanced to the floor of the room, surveying the pills scattered about. "Everyone watch your step, and get out of this room. _Now._" The doctor stepped back and Kiku followed him out. Michael was behind him, and then Sarah and Toris. Most of the patients had quieted down now, enough at least for normal levels of voices to be used. Arthur's arms were crossed, his expression strained. Yao took his leave without a word, heading down the hall leading to the solitary rooms. "Sarah, go back to the safe room. Dr. Honda, take Michael to the infirmary and then get to Ivan."

"Don't you want to know what…" Michael was cut off with a glare, Arthur's thick eyebrows drawn close together.

"What I _don't _want is to hear you slag off when you're angry! When you're patched up, go home for tonight! We'll call you for an official statement tomorrow." Those green eyes turned to Toris, and Arthur sighed. "That goes for you too." Toris' eyes widened a little.

"Wha, I'm not hurt though! And I wasn't in the fight! I can still…"

"Toris, this is _not _up for discussion. You are a witness to this event and I need to know that you're level headed and rested when you give your statement tomorrow. Because of the physical nature of this attack, I'm going to have to call a meeting of the board of directors. Until then, neither of you are to talk to _anyone _inside this facility about this! That includes each other. Now clear off!" Kiku gave a nod at once, turning and heading down the hall. Michael followed him, and while at first Sarah hesitated, she followed at their heels a moment later. Toris hesitated, biting his lower lip. "…Did you not hear me?"

"Does… Does this mean that Ivan will move up to Level Two?" Toris' expression was strained. Arthur frowned, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it. When he opened it again, it was for a sigh.

"I'm not the villain here, lad. I have a wounded patient and an injured orderly. _Someone _is going to pay for this, either with their job or with a few lost luxuries. I don't like it any more than you do, but I have a _business _to run here. I can't run the risk of anyone else getting injured. It is not my _desire _to see Ivan suffer, Toris, but he's a danger to _himself._" Arthur reached out to give Toris' shoulder a heavy pat. "Go home, get some rest. The best thing that you can do for Ivan right now is to remember everything that happened so that we can get this whole mess sorted out tomorrow." Swallowing, Toris nodded.

"A-alright."

"Good lad." Arthur lifted his hand and headed past the Lithuanian, into Ivan's room. He closed the door behind him. Toris gave a heavy sigh, feeling the pressure return to his chest. The security guards and orderlies had managed to clear the hallway now, though Alfred hopped up onto the couch as soon as he saw Toris enter the common room.

"Hey, what happened? Why will no one tell us?" He called out, and the only thing that kept him from leaping over the back of the couch was Francis' hand on his wrist. The Frenchman's expression was reserved, giving Toris a look that was something like sympathy. Toris shook his head as he continued on towards the safe room.

"I-I can't talk about it. I'm sorry, Alfred!" He called back to him. Alfred was protesting loudly, and Lovino began to shout at him to shut up as Toris' hand came to rest on the door. Sarah buzzed him through, and he pushed it open in a hurry. He heard her voice behind him ask something, but he couldn't stop now. Rushing into the break room, he only stopped to sit down heavily on one of the beds for double shifts. Resting his elbows on his knees, Toris came to rest his face into his hands with a shuddering breath. "Damn it…"

How could he not have known? He felt so… so stupid and naïve! Ivan had played him like a fool, like everyone else! Not taking his medicine… What could he possibly have hoped to gain from that? It was common of course, for patients to do so. They didn't like the way the medicine dulled them, or how it made them tired or perhaps they just didn't trust it. There were many reasons that patients disliked medication. Alfred called it poison, though his protests were more for attention than for actual distrust. Gilbert avoided them because they made his 'friend' go away, and Lovino had said once that he disliked feeling 'fuzzy' when on medication. But he didn't have any idea about why Ivan disliked it, as he'd never mentioned it before.

Go home and rest, Arthur had said. Yeah, right! As if he could get any rest _now_! And he'd be coming in on his day off to give his report. Not that he minded such a thing. With the way that Michael had been talking, Toris had no choice but to come in and tell the truth of things. Otherwise it would look very bad for Ivan, who they said had been violent in the past. Glancing down to his wrist, Toris frowned at the black splint there. With his left hand he reached up to it, ripping off the Velcro. Slipping his hand free, he made a fist, rotating his wrist slowly. It had been over two weeks already, and it didn't hurt anymore. Even if it did, there was no way Toris was going to walk into that appointment tomorrow with it on! Standing and moving over to the lockers, Toris pulled out his bag, shoving the splint inside. Gathering it over his shoulder, he headed for the door.

* * *

There came a knock on the heavy metal door, and Yao turned his head to the side. Through the window he spotted the perpetually angry-looking English doctor, and he gave a nod of his head. Arthur slid his card through the slot, stepping into the room. He closed it behind him, but leaned back against it. The walls of the eight by ten room were off-white and padded, and that included the back of the door. The mattress on the floor was in the right-hand corner of the room, straps coming straight up from the floor. They were around the wrists and ankles of the patient on the bed, with one over his hips, thighs, and chest as well. For all appearances, Ivan seemed asleep. Yao had gotten a hold of some gauze and medicine already, and he'd wiped away the blood from the Russian's lip. Arthur held up a handkerchief, giving a heavy sigh. "There's over thirty pills here, Yao. I don't know how long he's been skipping out on them, but it could be anywhere from months of a stash to—"

"It recent." Yao said quickly, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper, holding it up. "According to blood, withdraw is recent. He skip them for a week, on and off."

"I see." Arthur moved over to the side of the bed, behind where Yao sat on the side of the mattress. "Got himself banged up nicely this time, did he? Looks like that Michael fought back pretty hard."

"This wound not defensive." Yao reached up to touch Ivan's jaw, sliding up under his cheekbone where a bruise was already forming. "This hit from side. I think he…"

"Let's not draw any conclusions just yet, Yao. We'll have the meeting tomorrow, and then we'll _all _decide on what to do." They fell quiet for a moment, Yao's displeasure evident on his expression. He glanced back to Ivan finally, reaching out to touch his scraped knuckles this time. "You're too _attached, _Yao." At that, Yao's dark eyes narrowed considerably, and he fixed the Englishman with a cold glare.

"You no right tell me that! _You _give me this man for patient, Arthur. I help him best I can, he difficult. He _not _bad man, he troubled."

"Yes yes, aren't they all?" Arthur closed the pills up in the handkerchief, shoving them into his pocket before he crossed his arms. "I don't see you raising a fit every time one of the others gets themselves in trouble."

"Toris was in room?" Yao asked. Arthur raised one thick eyebrow.

"Yes."

"He hurt?"

"Not a scratch."

"There your answer." Yao nodded, and the Englishman sighed. "No sigh! Ivan not want hurt anyone! Something happen, you see. Lack of medicine and trigger. Can happen to any patient."

"Not _all _patients refuse their medication. Of course we're going to have to monitor them more closely now. First he slipped a pill to Gilbert, and now this. I'm placing this one on the orderlies, and I'm going to order a mandatory meeting on the distribution of medicine. But that doesn't _excuse…_"

"_Shi, shi. _I know." Yao waved his hand.

"What's _with _this one all of the sudden? I've even got _Alfred _asking me about him! He came to pester me as I headed over here. I thought those two disliked each other." Yao laughed at that, glancing back to Arthur again.

"You not get it." Yao said with an almost pitying expression. "Ivan honest man, that all. No impulse control… He display his likes and dislikes. If someone anger him, he let them know. He not hide it or lie, not unless he want something. But the others know this. Even Alfred… Your Alfred is trouble, he provoke."

"Don't call him _my _Alfred." Arthur grumbled. "And Toris? He's new, Ivan's one of the most troublesome patients on this level and he's already hurt the lad once. How did he get so attached?"

"You read Toris file, you know about his mother."

"You think it has to do with her? But Ivan is nothing like…"

"I no mean like that." Yao shook his head. "He give up, yes? Leave her there. I think he feel guilt, and that guilt drive him to this. But that not all."

"I don't understand. Vilnius Republican is a respectable institution from what I hear. Despite a bit of overcrowding they—" He was stopped this time by an irritated sigh, and Yao gathered the dirty gauze as he stood up.

"It not the place! It the help. He no care for body because body is already broken. If he get hurt he no mind. If he can help someone, that what matter. Not only Ivan, though they close. Toris help anyone here. I bet if Lovino hit him, Toris feel bad because he did something."

"Someone needs to teach that boy a bit of self preservation." Arthur said as he turned for the door. Yao nodded from behind him, glancing back to Ivan as he followed the director out of the room.

"_Shi._"

Once both doctors were gone, the patient on the bed stirred, eyes opening to stare up at the white ceiling. A smile curved those full lips of his, even if it caused the split in the lower one to sting terribly. So, that was it was it? Toris' other secret? His mother was in an institution. It didn't matter for _what; _Ivan would have been just as excited over any ailment. The important part was that _it_ was in Toris' very _blood._ Now, how was he best to use this…?

* * *

The call came at 10:00am to arrive at the institution by noon. Toris threw on his clothes and promised his brothers that he would be home by the time that they got home from school… hopefully. He had no way of knowing how long this would take, but he could hope for the best right? His heart was pounding for the entire ride there, going over the scene again and again inside of his head. And Toris hated that, because it was a habit that he had anyway. Only that replaying a scene always opened up that possibility of _what if_?

What if he had stopped Ivan from hitting Michael? What if he had kept Michael from going after Ivan? If he had broken them up sooner? In the end it was always useless, and not only because there _was _no _what if _by the time it had already happened. Ivan and Michael had been the worst combination possible. They were both confrontational, and Michael was verbally abusive. He just wished he had gotten the change to talk to Yao before this meeting, so he knew what he should and shouldn't say… Of course he knew that Ivan was wrong to have hit Michael, Ivan wasn't _innocent _here! But for an orderly to attack a patient like that? This was going to drive another rift between Toris and the other orderlies, most likely. But he wasn't going to _lie_.

It felt strange to walk into the building wearing his good slacks and a light-green button-up shirt. Toris didn't know how he should dress, so he'd dressed nicely without being _too _nice… No tie, right? He hoped he shouldn't have one! He'd never put his splint back on. His wrist didn't hurt anymore, and he knew how it would look besides. The older woman at the front desk had finally started to recognize him lately, and she directed him to the elevator behind her. 5th floor, he'd been told. The elevator opened to reveal another desk, which he approached slowly. Just as he was about to speak a familiar voice spoke up from the side.

"Toris!" Antonio ran up to his side, only to slap him on the shoulder. "You're just in time! We're starting the meeting any moment now, so just follow me." Not that he gave the orderly a choice, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and directing him alongside him as he headed down the hall. "Listen," He spoke up again before Toris had the chance to reply. "Some of us are a bit concerned about your safety here…"

"I knew this might come up." Toris sighed.

"Hey hey, I know you're tough! But it's something they're going to analyze everything when they consider your side of this."

"…Sometimes I remember why everyone hates psychologists. You don't know how many times I've been told 'you do this because of this'. Can't anyone control their own choices by will alone anymore? Does everything _have _to have a reason?" Toris raised one eyebrow. Antonio laughed and patted him on the back.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Toris! I believe that people control their own destiny. Your past is only a _part _of you. It will never decide your future for you! Good kid."

"C-could you not call me 'kid'?" Toris asked with a slight frown. Antonio only laughed again, and he stopped in front of a room. Opening the door, he motioned for Toris to follow.

"We're here, everyone." Antonio's voice had very suddenly changed. It was level suddenly, calm and collected. There wasn't an ounce of friendliness there. He stepped into the large rectangle-shaped room, waiting for Toris to follow before he closed the door. There was a large oval-shaped table in the middle of this room, and Toris was directed to sit on one side of it. On that side there was Michael sitting about four seats down, and Dr. Honda about one seat from where Toris took his own. On the other side of the table were a collection of men in white coats. There was Arthur and Yao, he knew those two. And Antonio of course. But the rest of the men he didn't know, or he'd only seen briefly. They were older men, mid-forties and older, and they all seemed to wear the same stern expression. Though this wasn't about Toris at all, he somehow felt intimidated. Arthur stood up, placing both hands onto the table.

"We all know why we're here, so let's cut to the chase. There was an incident in room 216, Ivan Braginsky. The confrontation took place just after dinner. Now, I've gathered a meeting because this is not the first confrontation with Mr. Braginsky and I don't believe it will be the last. What we need to determine was that no rights were broken here and what causes this. We already have Braginsky's statement." Sitting down, he held out his hand to Michael. "If you will begin, please." Toris glanced over to Michael as he began to speak. The orderly's right hand was bandaged, and of course his nose had a bandage on it, with a metal strip. The bruising reached the corners of his eyes, and it was painful to even look at. Toris sat up a bit straighter as soon as he told his side of things, however.

"So I heard some noise coming from the room, right? And I go to see what's going on, and what I see is Ivan leaning over Toris who's on the bed. Sitting there, and Ivan's got his arm held, and I said to get off of him. I went over to make sure he let go…" Toris was frowning already. Well, it wasn't _wrong, _but it wasn't the whole truth either. "And the bastar… I mean, Ivan hit me! Right in the face." He pointed to the bruise. "I fell back and he just kept going. Toris tried to get in the middle I think, and Ivan tossed him off. That's really it." Toris looked down at his own hands, clenching them together.

"That's all?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah."

"Very well… Toris, it looks as if you have something to add to this." Arthur questioned, and Toris looked up.

"Yes, sir."

"Go ahead." Arthur sat back in his seat, tapping his pen on the folder in front of him. Toris cleared his throat, setting his hands on the table.

"I was checking on the patients who had gone to bed after dinner, and I noticed Ivan's door was open. When I stepped inside I saw…" Toris swallowed. "I saw him kneeling on the ground and picking something up."

"What was he picking up?" Arthur pressed.

"It was… pills, sir. A lot of them I think. I told him that I'd seen them, and he took a hold of my wrist—"

"See, he tried to attack him!" Michael cut in. Toris frowned, but before he could respond it was Yao's sharp voice that spoke up.

"You be quiet! You turn over, Toris has floor now." Yao's stare alone kept Michael from replying, sitting back and crossing his arms with a huff. Yao nodded to Toris. "Go on."

"R-right. He took a hold of me, but it wasn't hard. He pulled me over to the bed and I sat down when he urged me too. He was trying to talk to me, to get me not to tell. I said that I had to, and he _insisted…_" Toris shook his head. "He never hurt me. Look," He pulled up his sleeve to show his wrist. "not even a bruise. He would have let me go, I know he…"

"Let's not make assumptions, Toris." Arthur spoke up, frowning. "Just tell your story. It's _our _job to analyze this."

"Yes sir." Toris nodded, letting his sleeve back down. "Michael came in right about then, and I know how it must have looked! But he… What happened was that he called Ivan a name as he came over to move him. I believe… No," he shook his head. "That is to say that Ivan seemed upset at the name. When he stood to meet Michael he hit him."

"What name he call Ivan?" Yao asked. Toris hesitated. "Toris, we need know."

"…He said, 'Get off of him, you… you fag.'" Many of the men present frowned at that. Michael spoke up quickly.

"I didn't say it like that! I mean I might have said something close but I didn't say—"

"Michael," Arthur stopped him with a raised hand. "We're not ignorant. You have a history of verbal abuse against the patients here. What you said isn't even as important as the fact that you verbally provoked a patient who you knew could become violent. Ah-ah! Not. a. word. Not until Toris is finished. One more and I'll have you waiting outside. Do you understand?" When he got a begrudging 'sure', Arthur nodded to Toris.

"Ivan hit Michael _once_! It was only once. I had tried to stop him, so I did get knocked out of the way. I bumped into the bedside drawer and knocked off the doll with the pills in it. So after Ivan had hit Michael he turned around and I was there by the pills. That's when I saw Michael getting up and heading back. I shouted at Michael and Ivan turned… That's when Michael hit back." Michael seemed rather uncomfortable in his seat, glaring at the table and shifting here and there. "When he was hit, Ivan fought back. That's when I called for help."

"Thank you Toris." Arthur nodded. "So what you're saying is that Ivan was not violent until he was verbally provoked, and then again when he was attacked."

"Yes, sir." Toris nodded.

"But Braginsky had been violent with you before, hadn't he?" A doctor that Toris didn't know spoke up, and Toris frowned a little. The man had short dark hair which was graying at the sides, and piercing gray eyes with wrinkles at the corners of them.

"Once, yes. But I grabbed a hold of his cheeks without warning. It was a trigger that I didn't know about, it was _my _mistake." Toris defended.

"But Michael would have reason to believe that Ivan might become violent with you again?"

"Ah, no!" Toris shook his head. "Ivan picks on me sometimes, but he's not been violent since that time! It was provoked, that's all. And don't you think it's an orderly's job to know the triggers of the patients they're around every day? I'm not saying they need to go home and read all the files or something, but if a little information can stop something like that incident from happening then wouldn't it be worth it?" Antonio gave a small smile, sitting up a bit.

"Toris is right, you know. And I think it's pretty clear what happened here too. But let's hear from Dr. Honda, yeah?" Antonio nodded to Kiku, who until now had been sitting quietly between the two orderlies. The doctor nodded his head, glancing down to the folder in his hands and opening it.

"Injuries on Michael Spearman are as follows: broken nose, bruised jaw, scraped knuckle. Various bruises and abrasions around the face and shoulders. Injuries on Ivan Braginsky are as follows: Split lower lip, one cut knuckle, various bruises and abrasions on his face and shoulders. These injuries are consistent with a close-range brawl. However…" He looked up. "My expertise is limited to just that. Both show injuries that are superficial, though the bruise on Braginsky's left cheek-bone is consistent with a strike from the side…"

"Oh come on! We were in the damn floor; I don't know where I hit!" Michael protested, and Arthur slapped his hand down onto the table.

"That's enough. Michael, Toris, thank you for your time. Michael, you can wait in the room next door. Dr. Honda, thank you for your input and you're free to go. As are you Toris." Michael and Kiku were already standing, while Toris hesitated.

"Th-that's it? When will I know…"

"We'll have made a decision by tomorrow about this case. You work tomorrow, right? You'll get the details at that time."

"…Alright. I hope I could help."

"You help much, Toris." Yao spoke up, and Toris glanced over to the doctor. He was actually surprised to see a small smile on that normally so stern face. It made him smile as well, and he headed for the door feeling a little more optimistic. It was good if Yao was smiling, right? As soon as they closed the door behind them, Michael, Kiku, and himself, the other orderly turned on him.

"Just what the fuck did you think you were doing in there, Toris? Thanks for fucking nothing!" He hissed, and Kiku stopped walking to glance back. Toris frowned, crossing his arms.

"I told the _truth, _that's all."

"You didn't have to say—"

"Say _what_? I'm not going to lie for you, Michael. Our job here is to take care of the patients, not berate and abuse them every chance we get! Who cares if some of them can't understand us or they have issues! That doesn't make them any less _human._" Toris started down the hall, and Michael crossed his arms, kicking the wall across from the conference room. Toris came alongside Kiku, who began to walk with him. "…How is he?"

"Sleeping, mostly. But he's doing well." Kiku answered. "The next week or so is going to be rough getting back onto his medication. There's a lot of blood tests involved, and he moves so much it's hard to get the needle in. If he'd just stay still…"

"I-I see. Thank you." Toris smiled a little.

"He said your name."

"Wh-what?"

"He was drowsy and he started speaking Russian, but I heard your name. It's strange, he's never been this attached to someone since Yao. But saying any name at all is better than the nightmares he usually has…" Kiku still looked straight ahead, and they finally reached the elevator. Toris swallowed, turning to the dark-haired doctor with a smile.

"He can say my name all he wants then. Knowing him, he's picking on me in some dream of his…" And now Kiku gave a small smile.

"That's probable." He held out his hand. "I'll see you tomorrow, Toris. I'll be down there some time to check on him, so I'm sure we'll run into each other." They shook hands firmly, and Toris headed for the elevator.

Well, that had gone well… he supposed. Toris really had no idea how this was going to all turn out. It sounded good though didn't it? Ivan had been provoked after all! Michael was verbally abusive to everyone, patient or coworker. Even someone like Toris thought he had it coming… If Ivan moved to Level Two, he wouldn't be able to work with him anymore. Not until he got enough experience to move on to the more dangerous and less capable patients. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N

With any luck, I'll have a second chapter out as soon as possible.

* * *

l

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As if Toris was able to relax at all on his day off after that! Of course he worried, not only about Ivan, but about what would be done with Michael. _He _knew that the orderly had gotten out of hand, but it was his word against Michael's. While the kind doctor Honda had offered his help, even he admitted that his results were inconclusive. It was a brawl, and hits could have come from anywhere. Ivan never would have been put into that position that position if Michael hadn't provoked him with that insult! Though Toris had to admit it was even a shock to himself to hear that word. _Fag._

Ivan had never shown any resistance in his attraction, or infatuation, with Toris. _Toris_, who was another man. The attraction was undeniably sexual, wasn't it? Toris knew he wasn't the only one feeling that, not after… after that night! And while Toris knew he was still attracted to women, he knew nothing about how Ivan felt towards the opposite gender. He never showed any interest in the nurses or female orderlies, treating them more like sisters than anything else. He'd never even taken the time to think about it before this, being so wrapped up in his own confliction, but was Ivan _homosexual_? Of course it didn't matter to Toris, that's not what this thought was about.

Ivan had disliked that _word, _which had to be it. That had to be the problem. He'd told others straight out that he liked Toris, and even if they thought he was just teasing the orderly, he had no problem with people thinking that he was homosexual, right? But hearing that word had reminded Toris of just another reason that this complicated venture was…Well, _complicated. _While Toris knew he'd have to face it eventually, he hadn't wanted to face it like this. It was _just _a word, an insult. When Feliks had asked Toris if he was a _fag _after he'd told him about being kissed the first time by Ivan and liking it, Feliks hadn't used it like an insult. His Polish friend was quite adventurous, flirty, and quite often in your face about things. He'd used it like a pop culture word, the way people said something was _gay _when they didn't like it.

Toris had never even _thought _about it before this. Sometimes he would tense when hearing _fag, _or _sissy, pussy, nancy, poof, _and any other derogatory word for a man there was right now. But they had all been insults which never related to him _personally _before. Hearing _fag _just from being close to another man like that… It wasn't just Ivan who had been up in arms about it. Toris was more and more furious about it the more time that went by. He almost wished _he _had punched Michael first. He didn't deserve to be made to feel bad about his choice in whom he wanted to be with, and neither did Ivan. And Michael didn't even _know_! It was as if the orderly had violated them both by looking into their hearts and pulling out the truth with such a cruel word.

All this time Toris had been worried about being found out at work for being involved with a _patient, _but the real underlying issue was that it was also another _man. _That didn't mean Toris was going to lie to himself, or feel any guilt. Gender wasn't an issue for him, it never really had been. Insults were just words, and just because some of them hit a little more close to home now, he was going to have to weather them. It wasn't for Ivan's sake, it was for his own. That he was attracted to Ivan meant that he would consider being in a relationship with a man, period. He just had to face that.

_You're the only thing I ever did right._

Toris clutched the half-empty pack of cigarettes in his hand, sitting on the edge of his bed. He could practically smell them lit and burning, even though they were untouched. Musty, maybe, but still smooth and perfect. Toris jumped at the knock to his bedroom door, glancing over just as it opened. Eduard's face appeared as he peeked inside. "Hey, the movie's all ready and the popcorn's cooking…" Those blue eyes dropped down to the item in Toris' hands, and Eduard frowned. "What, you still have those? Throw them away. Come on, we're waiting for you." Eduard left again, leaving the door cracked open. Toris sighed, turning to the shoebox beside him and replacing the pack of cigarettes. Along with them, there was a wallet, a dried flower, and an old lacquered hair comb with several amber stones set into it.

"Would you still say that today?" He murmured, giving a small sigh. Replacing the lid onto the box, Toris slid from the bed to kneel down, sliding it underneath of it. Standing up again, he brushed off his knees before he headed to the living room.

* * *

Toris was tired as he stepped into the institution that day. He hadn't slept very well, he'd been so anxious about the outcome of the meeting. There was a danger of Ivan moving up to Level Two after all! And just like that, whatever they had started could be over. While Toris would be allowed to visit Ivan on his days off, it would be much stricter. They did have a nice visiting room for patients in Level One, and guests were allowed to come into the common room and the room of the one they were visiting with, but for Level Two they had one room and the patient had to be kept restrained. It would have just been too much! Ivan wasn't an animal, and he wasn't that far gone. He could only hope that Arthur agreed.

Stepping into the common room, Toris was delighted to see Gilbert sitting on one of the couches. He'd been hiding in his room lately, sometimes even confined, so it was a good sign right? The patient sat with his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around them and chin sitting on top of them. Stepping over to him briefly before he went back to the break room, Toris leaned down a little. "Good to see you, Gilbert! How are you feeling?" Red eyes turned towards Toris, and Gilbert's expression was mixed. He seemed a little… confused?

"Feeling good to see. Well to see you, good to see." Gilbert replied with a quiet voice. Toris' expression fell a little. It looks like the medication change wasn't going well. Toris reached out, but his hand recoiled when Gilbert flinched.

"…It's alright; I won't touch you if you don't want me to. I'll see you around, Gilbert." Toris smiled again, though it was much sadder this time. Gilbert glanced away again, murmuring as Toris turned and walked away.

"Want me to see you around? See you want me to, don't want me to touch you Gilbert." Toris was buzzed into the Safe Room, giving a sigh as he entered. Sarah's expression was almost one of sympathy.

"He's out in general population again, but as you can see he's not much better. Antonio doesn't think he'll be violent though, so for now maybe it's best. I hate to see him like that though…"

"So do I. In fact, I'd much rather have him ranting about a spot on the couch for Fritz than repeating me like that…" Toris agreed, glancing back to the room. Everyone was giving the German a wide berth it seemed, even Alfred and Lovino. Only Francis was close, taking a nap on the couch closest to the one Gilbert was on.

"…Aren't you going to ask?" Sarah inquired, and Toris swallowed.

"…I'm afraid to." He admitted, glancing back to Sarah. But she was smiling, leaning back against the counter.

"He got fired. Michael did. And _oh, _he threatened to sue! You should have seen Arthur! He got right up in his face and he said 'Go ahead, you punk! I'm sure the Braginsky family would have their own legal rights lawyers on your ass so fast it would be over before it even started!'" She chuckled, and Toris' eyes widened a little.

"Arthur said that?"

"He sure did! He was real burnt up about this whole deal. He's interested in money, you know, and if Ivan's sisters knew about this he's afraid he'd lose Ivan."

"You think it's only about money?" One eyebrow rose. Sarah shook her head a little.

"No." She smiled. "But Arthur'd have you think it was." Toris chuckled, hesitating again on the second half of this answer. He swallowed, licking his lips swiftly.

"And…?"

"He's good. Green lighted for continued residence in Level One, 'for now' as Arthur put it." Toris heaved a sigh of relief, feeling his heart beat heavily in his chest. Sarah giggled, moving over to the other orderly. Leaning in, she kissed his cheek. Toris pulled back in surprise, reaching up to touch his cheek.

"Wh-what was that for?"

"Because you're such a sweetheart." Sarah explained, heading back over to the counter to continue to put medicine into cups.

"Thanks, I think." Toris smiled, but Alfred's voice made them both jump.

"AH-AH, I SAW THAT!" Al shouted as loudly as he could. Toris winced and Sarah laughed. The brunette ducked his head down and headed for the break room, but Sarah called after him.

"Hey, I almost forgot to tell you! Dr. Wong wants to speak to you in his office right away!"

"Th-thank you!" Oh, wonderful. Toris' heart always managed to pound when he heard those words. But it had to be good, right? Yao would be happy that Ivan wasn't being sent to Level Two? He'd said he wanted to work on this along with Toris, and Toris hadn't been able to speak alone with Yao ever since the incident the other day, so maybe it was about that. And honestly if Yao had any tips for how to handle such a situation again then Toris would love to hear them!

Toris hurried to Yao's office upstairs as quickly as he could, knocking before he stepped inside. The psychologist glanced up from his desk, his expression a bit unreadable as he motioned for Toris to enter. Closing the door behind him, Toris came over to one of two chairs on the other side of Yao's desk. Dark eyes met his own as Yao set his hands on top of his desk, fingers lacing together. "You hear about Arthur's choice?"

"That Ivan can stay in Level One?"

"Yes, that. I have change his Lithium to liquid so he no trick you again. But that not what I want talk about." Yao sighed, reaching up with his right hand to rub at his sinus'. "I want ask you questions about Ivan behavior last few days. No, maybe week."

"Of course, if it will help." Though as soon as Toris said it, his face became a little red. The last week or so, Ivan had been…

"Good. So what change happen, other than his sleep?" There was a pause as Yao grabbed a pen from the Hello Kitty holder on his desk, turning a page in a notebook and setting the tip down. But when there was nothing but silence a moment later, he glanced back up. "Toris? You begin." He said with a small frown. Toris averted his eyes, wringing his hands together a little. He couldn't exactly tell Yao _everything, _could he? But what if it could help? Swallowing, he looked back.

"He tried to kiss me. More than usual." Toris started. Yao looked back down and started writing.

"Go on. Everything you think of."

"He was more talkative, and also more argumentative I think. Normally you know, he sits in the corners and things and he covers his ears when things get loud. But I saw him talking with others more and he got into that little fight with Alfred… No one was hurt, but it was close. To the best of my knowledge what happened with Michael can be chalked up to a trigger being touched, but that was…" Yao was nodding, his hand lightening fast as he scribbled out his notes. When Toris tried to sit up a little straighter to glance at them, he realized that they were all in Chinese anyway.

"That all?" Yao asked, not looking up. Toris hesitated again, glancing off to the side again.

"…At night, he would ask me to kiss him. No, no, he would _beg _me. He'd tell me to un-do his restraints and…"

"So you would say he more promiscuous?" Toris glanced back, face heating up a little.

"P-promiscuous? Wouldn't that mean he was like that towards everyone? No one else has mentioned…" Yao looked up, waving his hand.

"More sex-orientated."

"Oh! Oh, yes. I-I mean, he seemed to be. Does that help?" Toris was trying to figure out why he was being asked all of this. Yao had been Ivan's doctor for three years, right? So then he should know his behavior patterns by now.

"Yes, this help." Yao assured, and he finished writing to look up. "Ivan very good at lies, you know this. For years he lie to me. He give me stories and half-truth. He hide his moods from me with smiles, and he hurt himself when he sad _and _when he angry. What I look for is pattern, but it difficult to find. Now that you close to him, he show you them." Yao set the pen down, sitting back into his chair. "I treat Ivan for psychosis and his…" Yao's hand rose, making small circles. "…behaviors." Toris nodded. "In Russia they say he have schizophrenia. I not believe this. He just not meet enough criteria consistently, like Gilbert."

"So then, you think the psychosis is secondary?"

"Yes. I think Ivan psychosis linked to mania, as he does not display these behaviors when depressed. At least, that what I have thought. I not able to monitor him around the clock, and sometimes he act strangely when depressed…" Yao gave a sigh, bringing his hand up to rub at his sinus' with his thumb and index finger again.

"If you think his psychosis is only with… _mania, _then you want me to watch for when he goes depressed, and see if he still displays psychosis?" Toris asked, raising one eyebrow curiously. "And if he doesn't?"

"Then I believe he have bipolar I, and _not _schizophrenia. When I know this for sure, I can stop Arthur from moving Ivan to Level Two—for good." Toris' eyes widened a little.

"How?"

"Bipolar difficult, but it more predictable. Biggest problem is continuing medication. Somehow we _make _Ivan want medicine." Yao's expression seemed to show he knew exactly how crazy that sounded. "Ivan _not _paranoid, he knew it help him usually. I think he refuse it other reasons." Toris frowned, sinking back into his own chair.

"But… _why _would he…?"

"To stay." Yao held up his hand. "I not know why. But Ivan know, he know very well. For three years he play game with me. He tell me about fire in little pieces, and he rarely slip up. If I know _why, _I could push him. But last time I push him…" Yao placed his hand over his own shoulder. Toris nodded gravely. Last time, Yao had been stabbed with a pen over a confrontation about Ivan's father.

"S-so… Watch him when he's depressed, and make him want his medicine… or _try._" Toris concluded. Yao nodded, lowering his hands to clasp together on the desk again.

"Yes, that. You not alone Toris, I do everything that I can. Arthur has agree to let you give Ivan medicine when you here. You can continue to stay until he sleep on overnight too. But he stay in solitude for at least a week. This as precaution and to help medicine start work. If I right, he will be depressed fast."

"Alright, I understand."

"Good." Yao nodded. "Go get medicine from Sarah and give to Ivan then. You have twenty minutes with him, then you do other jobs. You take him dinner, and give medicine in evening. Then you give medicine at night if he need it. This much responsibility, Toris. More than we normally give orderlies… But Ivan _trust _you still. We need use that." Toris was shaking his head.

"Dr. Wong, I would do this for anyone. Any one of the patients here. If they needed me, I would do anything. I'm not here to have it easy, I am here to _help. _I don't care if something is in my job description or not, I…"

"Yes, yes." Yao waved his hand, frowning, though his cheeks were a little colored. Toris had never seen the doctor quite like this. "And call me Yao." Toris blinked, but then he smiled a little.

"Alright, Yao. I'll do it."

"Then you go." Yao made a shooing motion with his hands, and Toris rose to stand. He couldn't fight his smile though, heading for the door. Ivan wasn't the only one who had come to trust him. Yao seemed to have come to understand the Lithuanian to some extent, and he believed in him. For Toris, that was more than refreshing. When he'd first gotten tangled up with Ivan at all, Yao had been nothing but discouragement and warnings. But now he saw Toris as more of a partner.

* * *

Toris reached the lower floor again soon after, heading for the Safe Room. There was a commotion; he could hear it even before he reached the common room. Giving a sigh, Toris damned his luck not for the first time. It wasn't as if he had expected his job here to go smoothly exactly, but there sure was a lot more chaos than he had originally expected. The flurry of French gave away that Francis was involved, but when Toris turned the corner he saw a face he didn't quite recognize. Had he seen this young man before? He was tall, about as tall as Alfred, with slightly waved blond hair almost to his shoulders. His glasses had slid down his nose a little, as Francis was hugging his arm right now, tugging a little. The poor young man looked rather exasperated. Alfred wasn't idle for this, he argued with Francis—and he had a hold of the man's other arm. Stepping up to the counter, Toris glanced inside. "Who's that?"

"Oh," Sarah smiled. "That's Michael's replacement for now. We already lost Liz, and now him, so they brought him over from the female wing. It's Matthew, Al's brother and Francis'… Well, you can't believe everything that Francis says."

"_Enough_!" Toris jumped as a voice rose. He glanced back over to see Matthew had gotten free somehow, his face red. Matthew's voice was soft, but it was as firm as if he'd raised it. "_Alfred, _go on to art class like Dr. Carriedo asked you to! And Francis, you too!"

"Oh _cher, _I love it when you're—"

"_Francis._" The Frenchman's hands went up, as Alfred pouted from the other side.

"_Oui oui, mon cher._" Francis snatched Alfred's hand, and surprisingly the American went along quietly. Needless to say, Toris was quite amazed. Feeling that he was being watched, Matthew suddenly glanced their way. His smile was instant, and it seemed to prompt Toris' own. He came over just as Sarah set down a small tray with a few cups on it.

"Hello, I'm Matthew." Matt held his hand out, and Toris shook it firmly.

"Toris."

"Oh! Arthur talked about you. I heard Francis got you too, from Dr. Carriedo. I'm sorry for that, he's _really _hopeless…" Matthew frowned, looking a little worried. Toris shook his head, giving a little laugh.

"Believe me, that is _not _the worst that's happened to me so far." He said simply. Matt smiled again, glancing to the tray.

"Good to know, and yet troubling. I see you're busy right now. I better go after those two to make sure they actually _go, _but I'll talk with you later?" Matthew waved as he headed off, and Toris waved back.

"S-sure!" Toris glanced over as Sarah giggled. "Wh-what?"

"You two are actually really alike. You're both so sweet, but you know when to be tough." Toris blushed a little, smiling as he picked up the tray.

"Thanks." He said as he turned towards the hall. At the end of the rooms there were the solitude rooms, and all of them were locked with a key card as well as a code. He slid the card through, and punched in his personal code to log in who it was that was going inside. Opening the door, he stepped inside. He spotted Ivan in the far corner, sitting up with his head bowed to his bent knees, arms around them. Stepping over, he called out softly. "Ivan, look at me." That head did rise then, quicker than Toris expected. Ivan's violet eyes widened a little, and he was on his knees in an instant. Crawling across the mattress on the floor, Ivan's arms came around Toris' waist, and Toris gave a small cry as he sought not to spill the cups—two of them containing liquid. "H-_hey_!" He protested when two hands went up the back of his shirt.

"_C-cold…_" Ivan murmured. However, the hands on Toris' back were damp with sweat. His head was buried into Toris' stomach, and the brunette was blushing.

"Ivan, you're not cold. You're burning up! Please let go so that I can sit down?" Toris tried to rationalize with the Russian, who glanced up as if he was confused. His lower lip was still a little swollen, almost giving him a pout. There was a bruise on his right cheekbone as well, and on the left side of his chin. Swallowing hard, Ivan slowly let go to sit back onto his knees. Toris smiled, sitting down and placing the tray onto the floor. "Good, thank you Ivan. How are you feeling?"

"Cold, it's cold in here. I told them to turn up the heat, but…" Ivan paused as Toris reached up, placing his palm to Ivan's cheek gently. Ivan tensed. "_One._" He stated suddenly. Toris frowned, but he pulled his hand back.

"Alright alright, you don't have to count." Toris sighed. "It's perfectly normal to touch someone's cheek to see if they have a fever, right? But if it makes you uncomfortable then you can tell me, not everyone understands what counting means. But thank you for warning me." Toris smiled, honestly proud of the Russian. It made Ivan smile too, and he dropped back to sit. "You feel a little warm; I think you might have a bit of a fever… Has Dr. Honda seen you today?"

"Yes, he said I was fine. You don't feel cold?" Ivan's expression almost looked worried. Toris frowned a little, seeming to echo that worry.

"No, not really… Do you want an extra blanket? I'm sure I can get one, or I can bring in your quilted one." Ivan's eyes widened a little, as if surprised. He gave a slight smile, almost sad.

"Toris won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wh-what brought that on? Come on, take your medicine please." He held up the first cup, a small plastic one with a syrupy substance. Ivan frowned at it, but he took it.

"I told him I would take the pills again…" Ivan complained, but it tossed it back anyway. He handed the cup back to Toris, his hand making a grasping motion. Toris handed him the two pills, which Ivan tossed back as well, before he grabbed the water straight from the orderly's hand, drinking it quickly. He didn't stop until it was completely empty, giving a small "_Ah,_" as he licked his lips. Toris took the empty cup, setting it back onto the tray with the plastic one. When he stayed there for a moment, Ivan blinked. "…You're not leaving?"

"I have a few moments to stay." Toris reached out, taking Ivan's hands into his own. Ivan closed his fingers around them quickly, and Toris wondered if he was going to let go at all when the time he had was up. "You said you're feeling cold? But your skin is warm, Ivan." Toris brought those hands up to his own cheeks, letting the backs of Ivan's feel that they were warmer than Toris' skin.

"You don't think I've tried to rationalize?" Ivan raised one eyebrow as if he was resenting being treated like a child again. Toris frowned a little, lowering their hands again.

"Then… Do you care to tell me what this is about? Saying you're cold when you know that it's not doesn't make much sense does it?" Toris had his own eyebrow raised now. Ivan laughed a little, and a smile curved his lips. It didn't reach his eyes however, his mussed bangs hanging into his face. Looking down at their hands, Ivan spoke quietly.

"…I don't remember much. But I know that it was cold there."

"…Your last institution?"

"I can remember shouting, cursing and begging them with the same breath. It would last days, sometimes a week." Ivan closed his eyes. "Not a mattress, not a blanket… The walls weren't padded, and they were damp. I would have to lick them to get water, but I'd always get sick from it."

"I-Ivan, open your eyes." Toris stated with a small frown, rising up to his knees. When Ivan would open his eyes, he would see that Toris' face was now close to his own. "You're _not _in that room anymore, you're here with _me. _It's not cold here; you're just a little feverish I think, so it might feel that way. No one's going to _leave you _here, and I'll bring you as much water as you want. With Lithium you'll need a good amount to start with to keep from getting dehydrated…" Ivan smiled.

"I know." He stated simply. Toris frowned a little more.

"Then why did you tell me…"

"Because, I wanted you to know. And also, I wanted to hear _you _say it. Somehow when you say it… I can try and believe you. Because you've done everything you said you would." Toris was quiet for a moment, sitting back down on the side of the mattress. He glanced down to their clasped hands, at a loss for what to say. Ivan wanted to tell him? That meant that he was offering something about himself instead of asking so many questions. But why would he suddenly do that? With a small smile, Toris looked up.

"Would you believe anything I say?" He seemed to challenge, to which Ivan smiled.

"I might. I'm _very _impressionable, you know."

"Well then," Toris stated with a slight lift of his chin, "you really should get better. You should take your medicine, and trust Yao and I, and… don't laugh!" Toris frowned again as Ivan did just that, even letting go of Toris' hands to cover his mouth.

"It's just, you're so serious!"

"Of course I am, Ivan! I'm completely serious, I want you to take your medicine and let it work! Ah—hey!" Toris' hands rose as Ivan leaned in, promptly lying out over Toris' lap, stomach down. Toris stared down at the large man over his lap, heaving a heavy sigh. "This is inappropriate." He stated with a bit of red across his cheeks as he stared down at Ivan's back and shoulders.

"Well, move me. If you don't you can't leave."

"I'll…" No way could he move Ivan! He would only look foolish if he tried. "…My legs are going to fall asleep, come on Ivan, this is childish!" As if to only add to this, Ivan glanced over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out briefly, before going back to grinning tauntingly. Toris gave a sigh of exasperation, glancing down the length of Ivan's body again. Ah. His eyes stopped on that shapely backside, properly posed. "…I'll swat you. If anyone in this place deserves a spanking, it's you."

"You wouldn't dare." Ivan challenged with a chuckle. _Smack_! Ivan's body jolted when that hand came down firmly on his backside. "_One._" He said quickly. Toris glanced back towards that face which had lost its grin, looking a little surprised.

"Ivan, are you planning on counting the swats or are you warning me?" Toris raised one eyebrow, and Ivan blinked, seeming to come out of whatever haze he had gone into. That pale face flushed a little, and Ivan pushed up to his hands and knees quickly. Before Toris could even react, Ivan was straddling his thighs, sitting back on them. Ivan's hands came up to cup Toris' cheeks.

"I love you. Come with me." Ivan said quickly.

"Wh-where?"

"Where ever I am. Would you fall that low for me? Would you stay with me, even here?"

"Ivan, I want you to get _better._" Toris' hands rose to lie over Ivan's own.

"But if I don't?"

"You _will._"

"How can you say that? It's in _your _blood too." Ivan frowned, and Toris did as well.

"What is?" Instead of an answer, Toris got a kiss. It was soft, and lingering. Green eyes half-closed as he returned it. Ivan seemed satisfied with that, giving those soft lips a brush of his tongue. Toris parted his lips, his own tongue coming to greet the Russian's. Lips sealed again and both of them closed their eyes into the kiss. Toris could taste the bitterness of the medicine on Ivan's tongue, but it didn't detour him. They parted with a slick sound, Ivan licking his lips with such a bright grin that Toris' heart was beating a little faster just seeing it.

"_I know that Toris can't leave me._" He whispered quietly, damp lips brushing Toris' as he spoke. "_I need you. I told you… So you won't abandon me_." Toris swallowed hard. What Ivan said was technically true, he couldn't abandon him now. Whether it was professional need to finish what he had started, or the personal feelings that he had for this man, Toris could never just leave.

"…Of course not." Toris moved his right hand, pressing it over Ivan's heart. "I'll always be here, even when I'm not with you. So behave yourself when I'm away, and I'll keep coming back. Alright?" Toris smiled. Ivan gave a small sigh, but he pulled back to nod. "Then please, my legs are _really _falling asleep…" Toris smiled a little. Ivan sighed, but he moved off of his lap, sitting to the side again. Toris lifted the tray with the cups, setting it on top of Ivan's food tray. "I'll come and bring you some more water in about an hour or so, and then let you go to the bathroom. Oh, do you _want _a blanket still?"

"Mm-mm." Ivan shook his head no. "I'll wrap up in the one I have, and think of you." He wiggled a little, and his smile became mischievous. Toris stood even as he winced for the tease to come, whatever it may be. "The slap's still a little warm. You have a good hand. I wouldn't mind so much if when I misbehaved, you—"

"_No_!" Toris' face was red, and he turned for the door. "A kiss for being good, and you don't get treats for being bad!" Toris reminded as he headed for the door. Sliding his card through, he entered his code on this side as well. "I'll see you in a while, Ivan." He said as he opened the door, glancing over his shoulder. Ivan simply smiled, blowing a kiss. Toris couldn't help but smile, closing the door behind him as he left.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N

I'm having an art contest for _Love, Insanity? _You can find the details and see the fanart entries by going to my ff .net profile and going to my DeviantArt! First prize includes an OC NPC to show up in the fic!

Whew! This little saga took several chapters to overcome… I hadn't expected that but it was a big moment and I couldn't really cut it short. Things will actually _move _again shortly!

* * *

l

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Toris spent the next hour cleaning up the common room. Gilbert sat on the couch the entire time, hugging his knees and sometimes murmuring to himself. It was painful to see him like this, and hard to resist trying to speak to him. Any other person and you could try and cheer them up. He'd seen Gilbert laugh and smile, he'd seen him angry, and Toris had even seen him cry. But _this _was… this was _nothing. _It was like cold water on a warm day. The reminder that those he worked with were _fragile. _They didn't all have problems that he could fix; some of them were beyond his reach. He couldn't help Gilbert because a cure didn't _exist._

Toris didn't like that reminder. It was a reminder of just how helpless that he was, how useless all of his knowledge could be. His desires to help were not unrealistic, Toris held no fantasies of curing everyone he touched. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt to see it first hand for the second time in his life. No, perhaps he could even call it the third. And to be honest it was frightening for another reason as well. That cursed _what if _was creeping into his mind.

_What if _he couldn't help Ivan? _What if _he didn't get better, but worse instead? _What if _he couldn't convince him to continue his medication and to work on his impulses? Toris had to forcefully stop that train of thought. Ivan was counting still, he was learning. He didn't know what to do about the medicine, but he _would _find something! Some way, some reason to make Ivan want to get better. Pulling back and saying 'Do it for me' was too assuming. If he did that now, he just might lose Ivan. He had no way of knowing what would happen if he said 'Get out of here and I'll date you.' More importantly, would he really? Ivan was mentally unstable, but that was a part of who he was. Too much medication would only make him compliant and easy to handle. It would make the Russian too tired to argue, to play and tease as he loved to do.

The teasing was definitely a part of his personality. But that wasn't to say that all of the bad habits were going to go away with 'getting better'. Toris had no delusions that making Ivan 'better' would remove every negative quality of the Russian. But everyone had negative qualities, bad habits, and overall personality problems didn't they? Even with everything, he had come to be very fond of who Ivan was. Ivan's _fragility, _it was hidden deep. It came out sometimes though, and Toris had seen it. When he'd come into the closet to get his promised kiss from Toris, Ivan had been trembling. Out of anything else he could have said, the words _help me _had passed those pale lips just before their kiss.

Even just a short while ago, Ivan had shared something important with Toris. It had been about the solitary room in the Russian institution. Toris didn't think that it was a lie at all, though he was curious as to why Ivan said he didn't remember much. He'd spent five years in that institution hadn't he? What had _happened _in Russia? "Toris!" The orderly glanced to the safe room at the sound of his name. "Could you go down and get some laundry started? Matthew's set to take the patients down after their class is over."

"Oh, sure! Just let me bring Ivan some water like I promised and I'll head down." Toris set the last few checker pieces back onto the table, glancing to Gilbert. He stepped over to the side of the couch, giving him a smile. "See you later."

"Later see you see you." Gilbert murmured. Toris' smile stayed just as it was, and he managed to catch Gilbert's eyes with his own. The corner of Gilbert's lips curled a little, almost as if he was imitating. Reaching out, he touched Toris' hand. "See you see you."

"That's right." Toris nodded, and Gilbert pulled his hand back. The German looked forward again, but his smile had stayed. Toris tried to convince himself that it was genuine as he headed for safe room. Sarah handed him a cup of water, and he made his way to the room that Ivan was in. Sliding the card through and pushing the buttons, he entered the room. Toris was surprised to find Ivan asleep, wrapped up in the blanket with his back to the wall. Stepping over to the side of the mattress, he knelt down and set the cup on the floor. He thought about waking him, but Ivan looked so… _peaceful _when he was asleep. Biting his lower lip, Toris stood again, leaving the cup of water behind.

* * *

Ivan's eyes opened suddenly, staring up at the colorless ceiling of this small room. He could hear it. Quiet but shrill, the clicks of the metal nubs strumming the flat metal bars for music… Ivan began to breathe faster, lips parted slightly. His eyes were open, he wasn't dreaming. Turning over on the thin mattress, he grabbed a hold of the pillow. Shoving his face into the mattress, he curled up and held it over his head.

It did no good. The sound was right there, as if it played from inside his mind. His skin was hot, so hot that the air around him was freezing. His blanket was tangled around his waist and legs, and he reached down to try and get free. Ivan tugged and pulled at the blanket, but it didn't budge. His other hand was unwilling to let go of the pillow, even though it wasn't helping. Another sound began, low and long, a single note. Only when it paused as he took a breath, continuing with a higher pitch, did Ivan realize that it was his own voice. He was whining.

Sitting up quickly, Ivan ran his trembling fingers through his hair. Grabbing a hold of the pillow, he threw it across the room. It hit the wall with an unsatisfying flop, sliding to the floor for a quiet plop. Ripping his twisted scarf from his neck, he let it fall. "_Shut up._" He whispered. "_Shut up. Shut up. They can hear you. Shut up, it's not there_!" Ivan covered his ears with his hands, scooting back into the corner of the room. Instead of soft, the wall felt hard. It was cooler than his body, pressing into his back and side through his slightly sweat-damp clothes to chill the skin beneath. Ivan shivered, teeth chattering. It was loud inside his head, with his ears covered as they were, almost drowning out the sound of the music. He could scream and he'd still hear it, he knew it from memory alone.

"_Please stop._" He begged, panting. "_I don't want to go back; I want to stay right here! Right here! He's not here, it's not there, and I'm here. __**Here**_!" Should he scream? Toris might come if he screamed. They'd sedate him, sure, but would Toris lay with him as he fell asleep? Would he dream? If he did, he'd be trapped in his nightmares again. Was it worth it? "_Don't come back, don't come back!_" He was still murmuring, afraid to cry out. How long had he been asleep? What time was it? When would Toris come back? Even Yao would do right now! It was then that he saw it. There was a cup of water sitting on the floor beside the mattress. Diving forward, he grasped it so tightly that the paper crumpled, spilling over his hands. That didn't matter at all to the Russian, but what _did _matter was the temperature. It was room temperature! He'd missed Toris' visit! Ivan gave a sound of dismay, crushing the cup completely, even though his throat was so dry. He could wait. He could wait! Toris would come back, he would! Ivan would prove that he trusted him; he would sit quietly and wait for more water, and to be allowed to go to a restroom.

He could wait!

* * *

After a while Matthew had brought the other patients down to join Toris in the basement. Such a relief, too! The basement laundry room was creepy enough by its self, but it was even worse when he was alone. Toris made his rounds, as it was, speaking to this patient or that as he helped them fold. Instead of standing aside like the other orderlies often did, Matthew was helping as well. He seemed to keep his distance from Alfred and Francis, and it only made Toris all the more curious. For the first time, he _wanted _to know the inside information about some of the patients here. Not diagnosis, trigger, or how they'd come to be here… But _personal _information! Regardless, Toris was a polite man. He would never pry into something which might be a touchy subject, as he knew well how that felt to be done to yourself. Lucky for Toris, he didn't have to pry. Matthew came over on his own, giving Toris a smile. "Sorry about earlier, we had to cut things short. Alfred told me you're in school?"

"Alfred did?" Toris had to chuckle. "Yes though, I'm in school to be a clinical psychologist. That's my hope, anyway…"

"You think that will change?"

"Oh no, it's not that. And I don't want to say something like 'It's harder than I thought'…"

"But, it's harder than you thought." Matthew said wisely, and Toris smiled.

"Yeah, it's a lot harder than I thought." Toris set aside a sheet, picking up a pillowcase. "I never thought it would be _easy, _but what I hadn't taken into consideration was the… _attachment._"

"Believe me, if anyone understands that it's me." Matthew nodded, reaching up to adjust his glasses as he reached for a sheet. "There's a reason I don't usually work in this wing, and it has nothing to do with the professional boundaries." Matt glanced over to Alfred, who was pestering Lovino. Toris followed his gaze.

"Hey—"

"Hey—"

Not only did Alfred stop, but he gave the two orderlies who had spoken at the same time such a look of shock that both Matthew and Toris had to laugh. "Continue." Matt pointed to the laundry.

"You're not the—!"

"Please, Alfred." Toris added, and Al frowned.

"_Fine. _It's for Toris though." Alfred assured, snatching a sheet off of the table. Matthew sighed, glancing back to Toris.

"You see? I'm a distraction, I'm too close. I'll be going back to the female wing as soon as they find a replacement for Michael. They were going to choose Liz, but due to Gilbert's current state they didn't think it would be a good idea." Matthew glanced over to Toris, blinking a little. "Oh! I'm sorry; I'm talking over your head aren't I?"

"I-it's alright." Toris smiled a little. "I've gotten a little used to being overwhelmed by everyone's connections here…"

"Well maybe I can help you out a little. She doesn't talk about it much, but I know she doesn't mind. She hit Gilbert, you know."

"I'd heard, yes."

"Well," Matt frowned a little. "Even I admit I don't know everything. But I know what he said. 'He'll never love you.' Liz is pretty protective of her husband… I've only seen the man once, myself. He lives back in Germany, only comes to visit when he's in for business. Works with Lovino's brother's lover… Man, that's a mouthful, huh?"

"Sure is." It was much more complicated than he thought, then. That man… what had been his name? Feliciano's boyfriend, he'd avoided coming in to see his brother. But then, he'd come for Christmas hadn't he? Complicated matters like that… They were best left untouched. "And… You?" Toris ventured to ask.

"Don't you know? I'm Arthur's charge, my brother is that jerk over there,"

"_Hey, you're the—_!" Alfred shouted, but Matthew continued.

"And Francis is my sometimes roommate. I'm sure he said I was his lover though." Matt smiled a bit then. "Man, Arthur would kill him if that was—" He stopped when a pillowcase smacked into the side of his face. Hair mussed and glasses askew, Matthew's face was a little red as he glared over to Alfred.

"You called me a jerk!"

"I'm not going to argue with you. I'm at work." Matt muttered.

"Yeah but—!"

"Toris!" A female voice called over the intercom suddenly. Toris glanced over towards it, surprised by the urgency in that voice.

"Y-yes, I'm here."

"Come upstairs quickly please, Ivan's calling for you. I'm sending Jeff down to take your place."

"Thank you Sarah." Toris said swiftly, heading for the stairway.

"Hey, what's wrong with Ivan? Wait!" Alfred called out, but Matthew stepped in front of him before he could try and follow. Alfred grabbed a hold of Matthew's arms.

"He'll be fine; Toris is going to handle it right? Calm down."

"Let go Matt, I want to see!"

Toris was out of ear-shot in no time, listening to the echoing voices as he reached the top.

* * *

Toris was breathing so hard that his chest was aching from it. He'd heard Ivan's voice all the way from the end of the hall, and Toris had nearly slipped on the tile floor as he reached the door. Running his card through swiftly, he punched in the code. The box beeped angrily at him to tell him that it was wrong, and Toris gave a sound of frustration. Sliding the card again, he punched it in more carefully. The door clicked, and Toris opened it in a hurry. Ivan was huddled in the corner of the room again, knees up and head bowed, both hands fisted into his short blond hair. "Ivan!" Toris called out, rushing to the side of the bed. He dropped down to his knees just as Ivan looked up.

Violet eyes were red and watery, and Ivan's expression only seemed to become even more anguished when he saw Toris. The Russian threw himself towards the smaller orderly, laying out on his stomach and pressing his face into Toris' lap. "_Toris_!" He sobbed, those large shoulders shaking. Ivan was trembling from head to toe and his breath came in gasps as shuddering sobs racked his body. "_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I tried to wait! Please I'm sorry don't be angry I'm thirsty, f-forgive me_!" Ivan's voice was hoarse, and raw.

"I-Ivan…!" Toris was at a complete loss, shocked into being stunned. His hands hovered above Ivan's shaking back for a moment before he laid them down. Ivan's shirt was damp with sweat. He rubbed firmly, bending forward to lean over the patient. "_Shhh, shhh…_" He coaxed, feeling his own heart hammering painfully hard in his chest.

"_I'm so thirsty Toris, please let me drink! I-I have to go, I need to go, it hurts, I have to go so bad! I can't hold it, and I'm thirsty, please don't leave me here_!" Ivan's hands curled into Toris' pants, pinching the skin below them. Toris didn't even wince, his fingers finding their way through Ivan's damp hair.

"_Hey hey, shhh_! Of course I'll let you!"

"_It's cold! It's so cold, and I'm thirsty! I spilled the water and I tried not to let it go to waste but it wasn't enough! It hurts, forgive me, it hurts_!" Ivan's desperate words dissolved into nothing but sobs and Toris closed his eyes. His own hands were trembling, a bit overcome with emotion.

"Please calm down, Ivan! I'm here now; I'll take care of you! I'll take care of you…" He continued to run his fingers through Ivan's hair, rubbing his back soothingly with the other hand. "You're not going to stay in here! I'll give you water, I'll take you to the bathroom! I'm sorry; this is my fault and not yours! I'm sorry." Toris' breath hitched, but he held back his own emotions. "_I'd never leave you…_" It seemed to be at those words that he felt Ivan's body go limp, though it still shook with dry sobs. Toris' lap was wet from tears, but Ivan was no longer speaking. He lay half curled on his side, with his face hidden in Toris' legs, hands still clutching those green pants. "_There there, shhh… Take your time, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Ivan. I came, didn't I_?"

"_Yes._" Ivan sniffed, and Toris gave a deep but quiet breath of relief.

"Just get it out, Ivan. Let it all out, we'll wait until you're finished." Toris said quietly. Ivan's shoulders began to shake again, and though there were no tears left to shed, he began to sob again. Heavy, heart-wrenching sobs and low groans of anguish, and Toris bit down on his own lower lip and listened. Ivan had helped him like this the night he'd found Toris' scars. How long had it been since Ivan had someone to cry on like this? Yao didn't seem like the type to know how to handle such a burst of emotion, as much as he did care. How much did he really hide behind that smile of his? All of his anger and pain, Ivan smiled more often than not.

Toris had been foolish! Ivan had even told him about his fears about this room. Ivan's last institution, his horrible memories… This event didn't have to happen. It could have been avoided if Toris had made a better choice. It wasn't enough that he didn't know how Ivan would react. Toris should have kept his word and woken Ivan from his nap, and then this might not have happened. There was movement near the door, and Toris glanced over to it. Yao stood there silently, his expression mostly calm as his dark eyes focused on Ivan. Slowly the doctor shifted his gaze up to Toris, and he gave a small nod, pointing to himself and motioning with his hand towards the hall. Toris nodded, he'd bring Ivan out when he was ready.

* * *

It had taken a good thirty minutes for Ivan to calm down enough to sit up. When he did, he couldn't meet Toris' eyes. Toris only smiled softly, reaching up to brush away the streaks that Ivan's tears had left behind. Standing slowly, he'd taken Ivan's hand and urged him to follow. Ivan had, slowly. They made their way out of the door, where Yao was waiting. Toris felt his hand held tighter at the sight of the doctor, but he patted Ivan's wrist with his free hand. "_Shh, it's alright. _He's not taking you anywhere, alright?" Toris coaxed. Down the hall to the bathroom, Toris let Ivan go in alone at Yao's assurance. Once Ivan was inside, Toris took a slow, shuddering breath. He jumped when Yao's hand landed on his shoulder, glancing back to the doctor.

"You do good, Toris. I not seen Ivan like that for long time now. Maybe more than a year." Yao explained, his expression still calm. Toris swallowed hard, turning to lean his back against the wall, sliding down to sit on his heels. He rest his head against that wall, looking up at Yao.

"…He told me."

"What?"

"He told me about his last institution. He said it was cold, they… They left him there Yao. All alone they left him in the solitude room… No water, no bathroom. It's," Toris' throat felt tight. His mouth moved, but he couldn't find the words to speak. Yao only nodded, his expression finally becoming a bit grave.

"I suspect that. I not know how to prove it, but his medical report showed signs. He in there for five year, that long time. They say he fight a lot, that how they explain it."

"E-explain what?"

"His wounds. I send questions, but they deny. I not lie, when Ivan come here he terrible. Fight everything and everyone. First mention of solitude he shape up. When he get bad, they start put him in there for make him calm. It work, but I know different. You see," Yao gestured to the door. "This not normal, this reaction."

"Then you think so too. This wasn't related to… anything about his father. It could have been avoided. This is _my,_"

"No!" Yao shook his head firmly. "This not you, Toris. This happen before, only he not cry. They skip a shift to take him bathroom before when in solitude, and he do this. He get agitated and scared, beg us to let him come out." Toris frowned a little, and Yao seemed to be waiting for something.

"Like… Like we wouldn't let him?"

"Yes."

"Then it's true. It's not just 'in his head'. Ivan was…" Toris covered his mouth, looking down. His shoulders shook, but he managed to get himself back together a moment later. Yao's expression didn't change, but he reached out to pat Toris' head.

"You good boy, Toris. Very good man. So good it hurt you." The doctor said quietly.

"H-how can you…?"

"I used to it." Yao said bitterly. "I not call it jaded, but I see this all over world. Patients, they fall in cracks of society. Out of sight, they are forget by everyone. Some people care, they help like you. Some do job like Michael, not care at all. But Toris, worst is those that neglect, force, and abuse."

"I thought I understood everything. Some days he talks like he's just fine. I mean, he's so clever Yao. You know this. He smiles and he teases me, and I think that nothing's holding him back." Toris swallowed again. "H-how do you recover… From all of…"

"Toris." Yao was frowning when Toris looked up. "You give up on me? On Ivan?" Green eyes widened some.

"N-no! No, it's just…"

"No just, Toris. Ivan very damaged, this true. But it my job to make him better. I believe Ivan can heal. Someday, he go outside this place. He just need get out of here first." Yao tapped his own temple with two fingers. Toris nodded, taking a deep breath. Standing up again, he wiped his face swiftly.

"You're right. You're completely right. It hurts, of course it does. But I got into this profession to help people. I can't do that by taking on all of their problems… I have to adjust for them. I can't change what Ivan has been through… I can only discover how to help him overcome it." Toris gave a small nod to himself, and now Yao smiled.

"I think you make it fine, boy." The door opened then, and Toris' smile was ready when he turned to face it. Ivan looked exhausted now, his eyes half-closed as his hair all mussed, as if he'd been woken from sleep. His gaze landed on Toris sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed.

"Do you want water now?" Toris asked quietly, and Ivan gave a small nod. "Alright. You go with Yao back to the room, and I'll bring it alright?" Toris glanced to Yao, who nodded. Putting his hand on Ivan's arm, Yao gave a small sigh.

"Yes yes, you come now. Cause so much trouble, you. Get all excited over nothing." Toris worried over that episode being called 'nothing', but to his surprise Ivan smiled a little, as if it had indeed been all a game of his. Toris knew by now that this was no game, but he understood that this was the best way for Ivan to get past it. For now, at least.

* * *

Once Ivan passed through the door of the room, his smile vanished. Yao guided Ivan back to the mattress, and Ivan sat down on his own. Yao sat down as well, on the floor. Without a pause, he began. "You want tell me about it?" Ivan picked up his scarf where he had taken it off, replacing it around his neck. He could still feel Toris' fingers running through his hair, down his neck to touch his scars. He hadn't hated it.

"…What's to tell?"

"Not play with me, Ivan. I see you with him, that not small matter. You frighten him." At this Ivan only smiled faintly, covering it by pulling the scarf up over his lips. He knew that Toris wasn't frightened. Upset, maybe. Toris was so tender… How had he ever survived this far? Too soft. "Not smile, you brat!" Yao snapped, but he calmed a moment later. "You talk about last place?" Now Ivan tensed, moving his gaze back to Yao and losing his smile.

"…I missed Toris." Ivan said quietly. Yao raised one eyebrow.

"You missed Toris?"

"Yes. I woke up, and the water was here but not Toris. I must have been asleep… I suddenly thought he might not come back. He said he would be back! I spilled the water even though I was thirsty, and I got upset. I worried that he might be angry, so I panicked."

"Why Toris be angry?"

"Because I spilled the water." Ivan frowned.

"Why that make Toris angry?" Yao tried again. Ivan hesitated, and his mind went back to places he didn't want it too. Looking away, he covered his mouth again.

"It wouldn't."

"That right. Because?"

"Because…" Ivan swallowed. "This isn't Russia, and Toris is not…" Ivan closed his eyes, his body giving a shudder. Yao watched him carefully, but he didn't comment for a while. He waited until Ivan glanced back to speak up.

"Toris take care for you. I take care for you. It help if you take care for self sometime, Ivan." Ivan thought that sounded a lot like a lecture, and he frowned. "You hear music?"

"Only at first. Then it was just… panic. It was gone completely by the time that Toris came in. All I could think about was… Toris. Toris was here, Toris would help me. I _know _that Toris has no real choice over what happens to me. That's up to you, and to Arthur. But when Toris is here… I don't feel alone." Ivan swallowed. "I want him here with me; I don't want him to leave."

"That's not possible, Ivan."

"Yes, yes it is." Ivan turned his eager gaze to Yao, and even though his smile was covered by his scarf, you could see it in his eyes. "I know about his mother, I heard you and Arthur talking about it. It's in his blood, Yao!" Yao's eyes widened, and then he frowned in anger.

"That boy want help you, and all you think is how to ruin him!" He chastised. Ivan didn't seem detoured, and Yao's hand closed into a fist. He pointed at the Russian a second later, his finger inches from that smiling face. "Toris trust you! He trust _me_! If you say you know about him mother, he lose that!"

"Oh, I won't tell!" Ivan assured.

"You not torment him either!"

"Never!" Ivan assured, nodding quite seriously. Yao gave a sigh of exasperation, throwing up his hands.

"That boy sane, more strong than you think. You mistaken about his mother. She not like you, or Gilbert or even Lovino! She depressed, Ivan. It called major depressive disorder. You want Toris be sad, you tease him then! You do, I make sure you not see him again. I send him to female wing. Because depressed the only thing in him blood." Ivan's eyes widened in panic, and he lunged forward to take a hold of Yao's shoulders.

"Don't! Please don't do that Yao! I-I'm sorry, I won't tease him! Please, please don't send Toris away!" Yao was frowning, trying in vain to brush those hands from his shoulders.

"Yes, stop this! You let go, I not do this if you behave." Yao assured the distressed patient, and Ivan seemed to search his expression for a measure of truth. Yao's expression remained slightly annoyed, but that was all. Slowly, though with now trembling hands, Ivan let go. "Good. Now you keep in mind!" Both eyes moved to the door as it clicked, opening a moment later as Toris came in. He froze when he saw both intent stares fixed on him, smiling a little nervously as he held up the cup of water. Ivan broke into a smile, and he sat back on the bed. His hand came up to grasp for the drink, a childish little 'give it here!' but Toris didn't mind. He wasn't as strict as Yao was. Yao stood up as Toris came close enough to hand the cup to Ivan. The Russian brought it up to his lips, drinking quickly.

"_Ahh…_" He licked his lips as he lowered the cup.

"We go now." Yao said firmly, and Ivan's expression fell.

"I'll be back at dinner to let you go to the bathroom again, and give you your medicine and food. Then I'll come back one last time to let you go again, before you sleep." Toris explained, though it was a bit hard to soothe the fact that he was leaving at all right now. Reluctantly, Ivan nodded. He placed the cup into Toris' waiting hand, accepting a smile instead of a kiss as Toris followed Yao to the door.

Damn Yao! He ruined everything… Just because Toris' mother was depressed didn't mean that Toris would be. After all, Ivan had his father's blood in him as well, as much as he hated it. The fact that _that _man was a part of him was something that he would never be able to escape from, not even when the man was dead and gone! Toris also had his father's blood, so there was a chance… He would have to do it carefully, but he was sure it could be done! It _had _to be! It was the only way that he could be sure that Toris wouldn't leave him… He could see him every day that way! With a small sigh, Ivan laid out on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

* * *

Toris did return as promised this time, ever so sure not to make the same mistake twice. He needed Ivan's confidence to make him trust him. He needed Ivan's trust in order to convince him to get better… Everything fell hand in hand. Ivan's mood was much better by nightfall, though Toris couldn't get the scene from earlier out of his mind. He felt as if he'd seen a sliver of Ivan's true pain back then, and he wouldn't soon forget it. They were even now in terms of seeing each other's weakness, weren't they? He'd seen past that hard shell, past the painted smile.

Though his words had been rushed and desperate, Toris hadn't heard anything to suggest that his rant had been influenced by psychosis or any delusions. Just _fear _and painful memories. It could mean that Yao was right, and Ivan didn't have schizophrenia. Any diagnosis would be better than none, of course, but Toris couldn't help but feel a little relieved. And that night as he lay down beside the Russian, who was still being restrained at night, Toris felt a sense of hope. He didn't know if he could take all of Ivan's pain, but he was going to try. Perhaps if he could take enough, it would lessen Ivan's burden a little. If Toris could just _share _Ivan's anguish… Somehow Toris' own pain felt a little lighter when he thought of it.

Ivan's body was warm against his own, their fingers entwined tightly. He buried his face into the crook of Ivan's neck, the scarf off and folded to the side. Toris knew his breath must have tickled Ivan's neck, but Ivan didn't complain. "_…I'm here, Ivan. I won't go anywhere. I'll be here tomorrow, and the next day… You have to believe me._" Ivan gave a small and sleepy giggle.

"_Of course I know. Toris… can't leave me._" Toris gave a deep breath, inhaling Ivan's scent. He still smelled faintly of sweat, but it wasn't a bad thing somehow. In fact, it almost reminded him of that night…

"_Mm._" Toris agreed without really committing. But the truth was Ivan was right. He had no idea that Ivan knew _why, _but he couldn't abandon the Russian. He couldn't leave him, like he'd left _her… _Even then that had nothing to do with Toris' feelings for Ivan. Those were something separate, something deeper. Something _real, _and not any dark little secret need anymore. And even as he lay there hoping to bring Ivan outside, Ivan was intent on bringing him in.

The only thing they shared in common that night was the desire to be together.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N

The fanart contest for this fic is now in the voting phase! Visit my DA to see all of the wonderful fanarts that were entered, and while you're there vote at the poll!

Not long ago I held a poll about the other patients and doctors stories. What it came down to was a kind of chapter for them which wouldn't halt the storyline. So prepare to learn a lot about the other characters of L,I? in this chapter! Oh my god, walls of text.

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Images were fuzzy and came in flashes like dreams. The kind that you had when half asleep, where any sound could wake you. As soon as your eyes opened the dream would be gone, leaving you only with a feeling of vague emotion. Was it a good dream, or a strange one? More often than not it was a bad one, and Ivan was glad that he couldn't fully remember it. It was a constant state of drowsiness in which he was dreaming while he was awake, and even when he knew that it was happening he couldn't do anything to stop it. A 'sane' person, a 'normal' person might say 'it's not real' and be comforted. Ivan had no such choice or power to make that a reality. A memory of cold walls and hollow voices which reverberated off of them, most of the sounds his own, that was the most popular dream right now. The most frightening part of it all was that Ivan couldn't distinguish from his dreams and his memories.

Sometimes his body would remember what his mind couldn't. He could 'wake up' moving to avoid some terrible incident from happening and not realize what he was doing when he came to realization. Other times he would start to hyperventilate in a way that dreams wouldn't cause him to do. The sound of footsteps, a voice outside his door, the sharp click of the latch opening would cause his heart to race. Ivan craved more than anything not to be alone in this pale and cushioned room, but his mind and body wanted to avoid all contact. This conflict was a terrible thing for Ivan. Toris, his savior and his light, he wasn't getting the attention that Ivan thought he deserved. Lately whenever he saw those concerned green eyes all that Ivan was doing was fighting himself.

Ivan would lay his head onto that soft lap and feel Toris' fingers run through his hair, letting him speak about anything and everything. Most of the time Ivan wasn't even paying attention to the words. What was important was that while Toris was talking Ivan wasn't dreaming. Even when Ivan felt his worst he would let Toris stay in the room. Even when he was experiencing a moment of doubt or panic he would hide it as best as he could. Internalizing his problems was nothing new. Ivan was refusing to go to his private sessions with Yao, however. Toris had said something about that of course, but Ivan hadn't listened. He'd pretended to fall asleep just to make him give up, but he knew that wasn't going to work forever. If he told Yao about his dream-memories, what would the doctor say?

He might give Ivan more medicine, or think that Ivan was a lost case. It had been three years, and he'd already been told that he couldn't stay on his current medication forever. He would have to change, and they needed to know that Ivan could handle the process. Weaning him off of one medication to go onto another was a long process, and it ran the risk of Ivan falling into full mania and psychosis or deep depression. For Ivan who had a history of mixed episodes this was a very serious risk. Ivan wasn't stupid, he knew all of this. You didn't go eight years in a mental facility and not learn anything about yourself. Maybe in Russia… but here in London Yao had told him a lot in order to help him control himself. In theory anyway, as Ivan was still getting the hang of that. The incident which had landed him in here was just more proof of that. Though Yao had defended Ivan as being provoked into it, he'd seen the look in the doctor's eyes.

It was the look that a parent got when they defended their child who they knew was partially to blame. But it was their child, and they would stand by them. It was a concept foreign to Ivan but he had never faulted Yao for being strange.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Yao did many things here at the Kirkland Institute. He stressed clinical methods and a manner of detachment from the patients, and he was good at it. He worked up in level two most of the time, though they were almost beyond help by the point that they reached it. It wasn't as if he expected to do much help there, but he did like to observe. Back in China where human rights weren't exactly the top priority, he'd been much more affected by the state of the patients. It was because of this that his addiction had started. Yao's curiosity had brought him far in schooling, but as soon as he was right in front of a living and breathing patient with a life-altering disorder it had been a shock. Back then he'd tried to push it down and view everyone as a research topic. It wasn't until a terrible mistake had cost a patient their life that he had been snapped into reality.

Though Yao hadn't done anything directly, the blood was on his hands. And it was _because _he hadn't done anything. The signs were all there. Withdrawing, loss of appetite, and loss of interest in things the patient had previously enjoyed. Yao had taken it for granted that the patient wouldn't communicate with him. He was naïve, thinking that they would come to him when it got bad enough. Yao was a doctor, after all! He had a PhD, he'd gone through all the schooling and passed with flying colors. Yao had dissected the minds of a hundred other patients and he thought he could predict human behavior. Yao had been young and arrogant.

Blood had been everywhere. The white sheets were soaked in it, there were drops on the floor, and the smeared writing on the wall had given him nightmares for years. _Make it sto— _the words read. Muscle relaxants, pain killers, tranquilizers, Yao had loved them all. Anything which would make his mind too tired to wander down those dark paths. It was better than alcohol which would make him sloppy wasn't it? He wasn't foolish enough to try hard drugs either. He needed them to sleep; he needed them to stop the headaches and the trembling. If a patient was depressed he shifted them to another psychologist. Yao always used the excuse that he had a full schedule, which he often did. No one complained because he had seniority, and Yao had never followed up with any of them. He closed off, became cold and calloused. He made his parents proud—and rich.

By all rights, Yao was a successful psychologist. That was all until Arthur had come into his life. Dr. Kirkland was a frustrating man. He didn't play by the rules, and he was more observant that anyone gave him credit for. He'd pegged Yao for a user as soon as he'd met him. And Arthur had done just what he'd come to China to do; he'd stolen one of the best psychologists in the country. It was blackmail! Yao would have lost his license, his reputation, his whole life's work. Work at the Kirkland Institute had been dull at first. Yao had sworn not to use prescription drugs ever again, making the whole world fuzzy for a few months. And slowly, Yao began to care again. It hadn't hit him fully until one particular patient.

When Ivan Braginsky had first come to the institute he'd been a reclusive and aggressive mess of a boy. In the first week he'd hurt three orderlies. Frustrated, Arthur had appointed Yao as Ivan's primary psychologist. Reading all of the paperwork from Russia, what they'd given him, Yao had seen a lot of the signs. Five years Ivan had spent in that Russian institution, and it was all showing. Ivan's grades as a child, his lack of a social life, and his 'sudden snap' didn't seem to fit together. It was a mystery that Yao had intended to challenge himself with. Yao tried every possible angle to reach Ivan. Passive, sympathetic, aggressive, and strict. The latter had gotten him stabbed in the shoulder while probing a little too deep. That was the first time that he'd seen Ivan fall into depression, and Yao had tried to pass him on to another psychologist. Old habits died hard.

Arthur had been furious. He's confronted Yao about his cowardice and arrogance. He'd said that if Yao passed Ivan on that the Russian would go straight to Level Two for assaulting a doctor. Ivan had been shocked to see him again. Perhaps that was the moment when they'd both begun to try a little harder. Ivan rambled, he played games, but Yao didn't fall for any of them. Ivan was constantly dodging Yao's attempts to get the truths out of him, and Yao was running out of approaches. After a bad incident in the showers where Ivan had hurt another patient for making a comment about his body, Yao had been chosen to supervise the Russian's baths or showers. He'd watched the Russian gain a bit of weight from the drugs they'd put him on, but he was smarter than to mention it. He didn't fear Ivan anymore; it was just a matter of decency. To let another man see you naked was a vulnerable instance every time.

Ivan became… like a sort of unruly son to Yao. So when the Russian had tried to 'seduce' his psychologist, things had gotten a little messy. Yao knew that it was a game; Ivan was just looking for a thrill. He watched Ivan's moods go up and down, his psychosis ebb and flow, and his sexual inhibitions fluctuate. It was around that time that Yao had begun to think that Ivan was experiencing mania. And then Ivan had caught Yao slipping. Under stress, Yao had stolen a bottle of orphenadrine citrate. A mild muscle relaxant, but Ivan had known better than to think it was for 'aches and pains'. It was with this that Ivan secured his place under Yao's care. Even though he was furious about being blackmailed yet again, Ivan had never needed to go that far. Yao had been interested, burdened with, and then sincerely interested in Ivan's health.

Yao no longer shied away from suicidal patients. He no longer believed that he was working to _fix _patients. A psychologist didn't _fix _anyone, as if they were broken toys. All that they could do was help you adapt and discover your own way to live with your disorders and stress. No one was as completely sane as they assumed themselves to be. Everyone preformed defensive habits, classical and operant conditioning, and most of all—they had a personality. Yao had gotten glimpses behind Ivan's mask, underneath his disorder, and the only thing that he had seen was a frightened young man.

Yao had gotten too close. And that was why he was so worried about Toris. Such a tender heart and sweet disposition, the worst thing that someone like that could be was a doctor of any sort. They took things too personally, and when coupled with a workaholic trait they took every failure much too personally. Yao felt fond of Toris as well, because he was everything that Yao wasn't.

Ivan was stuck in solitude for now, and Yao knew that each day was only pushing him deeper into depression. An unfortunate side effect of keeping him safe from himself and others was keeping him on his medication, which wasn't helping the depression.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Antonio had worked at the Kirkland Institute for years now. At first he'd thought he would only work there for his internship and then move on, but that hadn't happened. His biggest reason was simple: he'd gotten himself attached. Coming from a family of three sisters and two brothers for a total of six children from one mother and one father, family was important to him. His job _became _his family soon enough, and leaving them would have been like leaving home a second time. He told himself that it would be giving up, walking out on several patients he'd become close to. By now he could have had built up his own practice, working with children as he'd originally intended. He still helped out at shelters on his days off, of course!

Antonio told himself many things. That he would leave when his primary patients were better, that he _could _when they could leave as well. But two stubborn patients were preventing that possibility. The first one to come had been Gilbert. The extroverted German was loud, brash, insulting, and tactless. Most days Antonio could laugh at him, sensing the defensive tactics easily enough. When pushed, Gilbert would always project. He'd say just the opposite of what he felt in order to feel less vulnerable. What Gilbert avoided most of all was talk of his younger brother, and of his cousin Roderich. He fought verbally with Elizaveta every day, though sometimes, Antonio would catch the flirtation in it. He was the only one who took notice, and he wasn't about to gossip.

Gilbert loved to see Feliciano, as much as he avoided the comments about his brother Ludwig. Antonio had pulled a little from the stubborn schizophrenic, mostly abandonment and bitterness. But underneath that all, Gilbert loved his brother more than anything. He talked about Roderich in the same manner that he spoke about Liz; with a kind of tone which said he meant the opposite of everything he said. He didn't care about them; they were annoying to be around, that he didn't miss them. Gilbert had gotten himself admitted here, or at least that's what he told everyone. His disorder had become too much to handle, and he'd developed the dialog with his 'friend' Fritz. This was of course very upsetting to those around him, and Antonio believed that Gilbert hadn't wanted to cause anyone any trouble than he already had.

Gilbert was resistant to medication, and over the years they had tried out several. Each time they seemed to work for a while before he would begin to regress. In the end he would slip into almost catatonic states of staring at the ceiling or walls, responding only with his jumbled words. The second time this had happened, Antonio had become depressed. His happy façade was something that was difficult to keep up in the face of utter defeat. He'd found his solace with strangers at that time, and each one that he successfully seduced was a victory. Antonio wasn't a player, oh no, he was just a lover! He chose women, or even men, who wanted just what he wanted. Company, an affectionate or passionate night, and a number left in a book for another lonely night. But that had stopped when he'd met Lovino.

Things had become complicated when Lovino entered the facility. He and Gilbert knew each other, and like everyone who knew Gilbert, they fought constantly. The only problem was that Lovino was also physically violent. The Italian suffered from antisocial personality disorder. This didn't mean what most of the masses thought that it did. Lovino simply didn't confirm to society's rules and laws. He didn't consider anyone but himself, and he didn't think about consequences. He did what he wanted and thought that everyone else had the problem; the whole world was against him. If you told him to do something, anything, you were in for a fight. When he was marked for immediate attention, Antonio had spoken up. The Spaniard thought he could make a difference, and in ways he had.

What no one knew was that Lovino did often feel bad after the fact of his outbursts. If he hurt someone, he reflected on it. Most of the time he could justify it as being the other party's fault, but that didn't happen with Antonio. He'd only lost his smile once with Lovino. He'd been stressed, overworked, and at his wits end with the Italian. When he couldn't take it any longer, he had snapped. Antonio lashed out verbally at Lovino, tearing down his defensive nature and getting to the heart of the problem. Lovino's jealousy, his insecurity, his projective defenses. He let him know he knew it all, and that Lovino wasn't fooling him. To his shock, he'd watched those warm brown eyes tear up. He held Lovino as he cried on Antonio's office couch, apologizing and promising never to speak like that again. But Lovino had clung tightly to Antonio's white coat, and begged him not to mean that. Lovi said that Antonio was honest with him, pleaded with him not to leave him like that.

Antonio had become a little too attached, but then so had Lovino. He took what Lovino asked to heart, and he couldn't even think about leaving now. Everyone thought that he was just well motivated, good natured and dedicated. But really, Antonio was just too soft to leave his business unfinished and abandon someone who depended on him.

That's why he worried about the new orderly and aspiring psychologist, Toris. He heard Toris had said he wanted to be like him, but the younger man had no idea that he already was. Toris was honest and he seemed to become emotionally attached easily just like Antonio. He was dedicated and he became depressed with failure or mistakes, and the last part was obvious to see. Toris had also fallen for a patient. That patient wasn't so different from Lovino emotionally. Guarded, that was. Though Lovino reacted with violence, Ivan chose teasing games or the cold shoulder. That was better for Toris of course, because Ivan was also a lot bigger and more dangerous than Lovino! But Toris had gotten hurt, and he'd come right back even more dedicated. Stubborn kid.

This institution was like a trap. You came here to learn and to help, but you stayed because you were needed. People like them, himself, Yao, Toris, and even Arthur, they would always be needed. It was a profession that you never feared going out of style. Failure hurt, but not trying would have been even worse. Right now Antonio and Yao were in the same boat. Both of their patients, Ivan and Gilbert, were going through a tough time. It was a more private affair, but if Gilbert didn't make any progress soon then he risked being labeled as too much of a risk to be let out. The decision would in the end probably be his legal guardians, his brother Ludwig, but the institution also had a say. And of course Ivan was up for the same evaluation.

Toris was new here; he didn't yet know the full weight of failure. Antonio prayed that he wouldn't find out just yet either.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Arthur had been entrapped into this very institution ever since he was a child. His father, and his grandfather before him had reigned as the head of the board of directors, and it wasn't just because they owned the facility. The Kirkland's were leading the psychological research for the UK for many years running. They were a family that prided themselves on perfection, and everything was very clinical. In fact, things were a little _too _clinical before Arthur had taken over. His father, Eldon, had been a bit… old fashioned about treatment. Human rights had changed a lot ever since the time of his grandfather, but Arthur's own father had been raised that way.

Arthur was kept at arm's length by his father, and his mother was a lush. She'd married a rich man some eleven years older than she was, and lost herself in wealth ever since. On his father's third affair with a young female orderly, his mother had given up and turned to booze. It was an unfortunate habit that Arthur had picked up for himself, but he never let it affect his work. Eldon had an associate for a while, an American man who loved to use his money for good efforts. He'd funded Kirkland senior's research for quite some time, before passing suddenly of cancer. No one had known he had it, not even the man's sons. Those two boys, Alfred and Matthew, had been handed over to Eldon. They didn't have any idea where their mother was, as they hadn't seen her for many years now.

Alfred was a mouthy little thing, always seeking attention. If he didn't get it at home then he would get it elsewhere. He was a constant strain on Eldon's patience, and for a while Arthur enjoyed that. Seeing his father red in the face was worth hearing the American's voice prattling on about everything and nothing. Matthew on the other hand was a good boy, quiet and quite introverted. He rarely spoke up, but when he did it was usually to scold his brother. Arthur was still in college, getting all A's to impress his old man when Eldon had become ill. He was in his late sixties by then, and years of smoking had taken their toll. He sat at home with an oxygen tank for his last year of life. That was about the time that Arthur's childhood friend Francis had come back to town.

The man was a doctor in his own right—a plastic surgeon. Francis hadn't changed a bit since he was a child, except that the Frenchman took the whole 'reaching puberty' a bit too far. Arthur despised the philandering idiot because he reminded him of his own father. Yet Francis wasn't Eldon, and he wasn't without charm. Arthur fell for it more than once. It wasn't until Francis had moved to Matthew that Arthur had drawn the line. Regardless once Matthew had come of age he'd moved in with Francis. He couldn't blame the boy. Matthew kept up with his studies, and he swore up and down that he wasn't sleeping with Francis. Though he could have been saying that just to keep Arthur from killing the Frenchman…

As for Alfred, the boy had almost landed himself in juvenile detention more than once. Shoplifting, fights at school, defacing public property. Partially to save his ass, Arthur had gotten him committed to the institution. He was smarter than to handle the American himself, and so he had a colleague evaluate him. The diagnosis came down as histrionic personality disorder, and Alfred had escaped jail time. Ever since then it was touch and go. He'd take his medicine and (mostly) behave inside, but as soon as he was out he'd only take a few months to regress again. Above all it seemed to be Arthur's attention that Alfred had come to want. It never failed that if Arthur didn't keep in touch or went away for a conference that Alfred would end up back in the institution again.

Things had gotten so messy ever since his father's passing. The psychologists and psychiatrists were not as cold and strict as they once used to be. In fact it seemed that many of them were getting a little too attached. Arthur wasn't blind, he saw it. Yao had changed since he'd stolen the man from China, and though he felt it was for the better he was starting to become concerned. Yao based too much on Ivan's state of progress. Arthur didn't want to be cynical, but he still thought the Russian might be a lost cause. And that Dr. Carriedo, he was too attached for his own good. He had known very well that the Spaniard would be leaving as soon as his internship had come to an end, but then it hadn't happened. He'd stayed on for the sake of his patients, but at what cost?

His orderlies were a mess. Those that didn't care, those that resented their jobs, and those that cared too much. Sarah was a gossip, but a good girl at heart. Michael had ended up lashing out at a patient and nearly acquiring a lawsuit. Elizaveta had let her personal life get in the way of her professional life. Brad was too arrogant for his own good, the very reason he wasn't actually the supervisor that he thought he was. And the newest one, Toris, he was a very troubled young man. Dedicated and honest, he put himself in harm's way as if his safety meant nothing. Somehow he'd become connected with Ivan, and that was no small matter. Yao had been stabbed by the Russian once, and Toris had gotten his wrist sprained. Arthur _did _feel sorry for Ivan, he really did. But his position didn't allow him to be lenient because of personal feelings. Ivan was a danger to himself and others, and that was the end of the matter.

One more slip-up, and he was sending the man to Level Two.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ivan was dreaming again. He could hear the music box again, each click making his ears ring. Such a beautiful and fragile thing, but such a haunting sound. The quiet sound of his sister's feet on the floor as she danced gracefully on the hard surface. But just like the little porcelain ballerina her dress didn't sway and her hair was all trapped into a tight bun. It was peaceful like this, but he knew it wouldn't last. He used to have this dream often when he was first put into a mental institution. It was before the dreams of fire began to accompany these peaceful images. The soft patter of her feet would soon turn to the heavy sound of hard-soled shoes, and all that innocence was gone.

Instead of hot fire today, it was _him. _Not his father, but the other man. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a cold voice. How could he have forgotten such a person? Ivan's body ached with phantom pains, and he would rub at his temples to relieve it. He didn't want to remember these things! And why had he forgotten them in the first place? Most importantly, why couldn't he forget the fire? If he was going to forget something, he wanted it to be that night. More than anything else that had happened to him, that night had to be the worst. Oh, but the other man was coming in now; he could hear the door unlatching. _At least give me the drugs, I don't want to remember this. _Ivan said to himself, said it to the memory of this man. _Make me feel nothing again, make me sleep. You can do what you want, you will anyway, so let me sleep._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Toris was growing increasingly worried about Ivan this past week. Days passed by slower with the Russian out of the general population of patients. Time was spent waiting to give the Russian his medication, water, bathroom breaks, and then the rest of his job. He felt more like a paraprofessional right now, a one on one caretaker. It wasn't that he minded, but Ivan had withdrawn more each day. Yao had warned Toris that the Lithium might send him into depression, but it had come on faster than he had expected. While Ivan was in solitude he was relatively safe, but once he was outside he had many ways to hurt himself. That was the danger of it, and the catch.

The longer that he spent in that padded room the lower he would sink. He had to come back out soon, or it would only get worse. Ivan hadn't smiled at all in the past two days. Even if he was asleep he would jolt awake when Toris entered the room, his eyes wide and startled. Toris didn't ask about Ivan's previous institution and Ivan didn't offer any more information. He'd seen the entry sheets himself, and Yao had told him all he knew. Toris was no stranger to the mishandling of patients in Eastern European nations. Mental health had come a long way in these past years, but some places had yet to catch up. Medication was one thing to force on patients, but many treatments were still downright… medieval. He didn't want to think about those.

Toris had been pleased to hear from Sarah that Ivan could come out today. It had been nine days, not a week! She told Toris that Arthur was in a meeting with Yao, and that he could let Ivan out, but that he'd have to take him to the common room so he could be watched. Handing him Ivan's medication, she let Toris wander off to the solitude room. Balancing three cups was a bit of a chore as Toris opened the door, but he managed to do it without spilling anything. He almost didn't want to look over to the corner of the room where the bed lay, but he had to. Putting on his smile, he prepared himself for that expression. Ivan sat with his back to the corner, and his blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Violet eyes were half-closed, as if he was tired, his expression… defeated, by all counts. "Come on Ivan, don't look like that." Toris said quietly as he closed the door behind him, heading over to the bed.

Sinking down to his knees, he set the cups aside. Reaching out, Toris carefully took a hold of the arms wrapped around Ivan's knees. Ivan didn't resist, unfolding his arms as he was directed to. Listlessly, Ivan lifted his head and leaned back against the wall, his gaze straight ahead. Toris didn't press him, though he was starting to become uneasy with Ivan's behavior lately. He was worried, but he didn't know how to describe why. He could only hope that Ivan would snap out of this depression when he was out. Speaking of which… Toris leaned back over to grab the cup of Lithium, placing it into Ivan's hand. "Yao said you can come out today. When you're ready, you can walk out of here with me. You can't stay in your room though; they want to keep you under observation. That's alright, right? You won't have to be alone anymore." Ivan shifted his gaze from the far wall to the cup in his hand, lifting it obediently to his lips to swallow. The only change in expression was at the taste, and he handed the cup back quickly in exchange for the pills. Tossing them into his mouth, he accepted the cup of water next.

"They're going to be loud." Was all that Ivan offered before he lifted the water to his lips next. Those lips were dry and chapped, and despite the water he'd been continually offered the Russian seemed to be a little dehydrated. Toris sighed, running his fingers through Ivan's bangs to sweep them out of his eyes.

"I know, I'm sorry. I've done everything I can to keep them from hounding you but I know that Alfred will try. The other orderlies have been instructed to keep them from bothering you too much, so hopefully it won't be too bad… right?" Toris smiled again, moving into Ivan's line of sight because the Russian didn't offer to meet his gaze on his own. Ivan's brows were drawn, and his eyes reminded Toris of a child who was afraid of being scolded at any moment.

"I _do _want to leave." Ivan said quietly, but he frowned when Toris' smile grew. Confused, Toris looked a little perplexed then.

"That's not good?"

"I only wish things had been different. I thought I had figured it out, but I was wrong. I don't know if it can work anymore, I'm not sure of anything."

"I-I don't understand, Ivan. Everything _can _work out though, you have to believe me." Toris reached out to take a hold of Ivan's right hand with both of his own, holding it tightly. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed Ivan's knuckles. Come to think of it, Ivan hadn't asked for a kiss in days now, though Toris hadn't pressed that issue. It didn't matter to him if Ivan lost interest, it wouldn't change anything. Though he cared for Ivan more than just as a patient, he would never use Ivan's own fragility against him. He could support the Russian without displaced affection. Ivan swallowed, opening his mouth to speak. He hesitated like that for a few moments before he slowly closed it again, giving a sigh instead.

"…Then I'll go out."

"Good." Toris released his hand, gathering the empty cups and sliding them into one another to stack them. Standing, he held out his hand for the Russian to take. Ivan did so, letting himself be pulled up to stand. He didn't let go of Toris' hand as he reached up to adjust his scarf before glancing to the Lithuanian expectantly. Toris kept up his encouraging smile, leading him over to the door. Sliding his card through the slot, it clicked unlocked. Ivan's breath hitched a little, getting a worried glance from Toris as the orderly placed his hand onto the handle so that it wouldn't lock again. Ivan swallowed, nodding once. The door opened with a push, and Toris pulled Ivan through gently. The Russian moved as if through water, not unlike if he was under the influence of a tranquilizing drug. Toris was patient; he recognized the signs of anxiety easily enough. Ivan's scarf was tugged up to cover his nose, his last defense against the outside.

They had just stepped into the common room when Alfred popped up from the couch. Francis who had been sitting next to him reached out quickly, catching him by his pant leg before he could leap over the back of it. Alfred was forced to grab his waist band to keep them up, glancing to Francis with a frown. "Hey, I was just gonna…!"

"I know that _ami, _but give him a break. If you had spent a week almost alone you wouldn't want everyone jumping on you. Well, maybe _you _would but not _normal _people."

"Ivan's not normal!" Alfred countered, crossing his arms and still standing on the couch cushion.

"Alfred," The American's head turned at the sound of Toris' voice, "Please sit down. Ivan's not ready to talk just yet, so give him a little time alright?" Indeed Ivan looked quite uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he kept his eyes on the window as if he wanted to go through it. Alfred was pouting, but he dropped down onto the couch with a huff of breath. Toris led Ivan over to his chair by the window, letting him sit down. "I'll bring you your robe so you don't get cold." Toris said quietly, but when he turned to leave he found that his hand wasn't being let go of. Glancing back to Ivan, he paused. Slowly, without a word, Ivan let those fingers slip free. Toris placed his hand onto Ivan's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll be right back." He promised.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ivan was still wearing his robe by the time that Antonio came to collect everyone for art class. To everyone's surprise, Ivan offered to join them. He sat in his usual seat by the window, and Antonio made sure to keep everyone occupied as not to let them bother the Russian. For his part, Ivan was working very intently on something. He had a few piles of cloth scraps in front of him, and he was working with safety scissors and rubber cement. Toris had tried to come over earlier, but he'd been waved away by the anxious Russian. It wasn't until Toris leaned over near Alfred to comment on the American's work that Ivan spoke up, calling Toris' name and waving his hand. Toris smiled a little, coming over to stand beside Ivan.

"First it's go away, and now it's come here?" He teased as he laid his hand on Ivan's shoulder. "Can I see it now?"

"_Da,_" Ivan said as he uncovered the item in front of him with his hands. Lying on the table was a matryoshka doll made of the cloth. The body was a textured green, while the face and little hands were a pale peach. It wore an ivory apron with brown lines, and the eyes were the same green as the background of the body. Toris' eyes widened a little.

"Oh, that's really something." He was honestly impressed. Ivan was smiling a little, tracing the face fondly with a finger.

"It's for you." Ivan said simply, lifting it then and handing it to Toris.

"Wh-what? Really?" Toris was smiling as he took it gently, glancing from the crafted cloth and back to Ivan. "_Spaciba, _Ivan!" Ivan was chuckling though, the corner of his lips lifting a little more before he covered it with his scarf.

"You can thank me by wearing it on your clothes when you're committed." Ivan murmured, and Toris was shocked into silence for a moment. His face turned a little red, and he frowned at the Russian.

"I-I'm not going to be committed Ivan! I'm here to help, not to join you." He said firmly. Ivan only chuckled, though he glanced towards the window beside him.

"I guess it's that way, right? It's too bad though… Maybe if it had been another way. I should have tried sooner."

"What are you talking about? I'm not following…" Toris' brows furrowed in worry. Ivan shook his head.

"Just that it's too late now. I might have better luck next time. Do you think we'd still meet? I really hope so." Ivan glanced back to the orderly curiously. Toris was at a loss, swallowing.

"Ivan, please, I really can't follow you." He pleaded with him.

"Oh, I'm starting to understand that." Ivan said soberly, lowering the scarf from his nose to show that his smile had gone.

"No, I only mean that I…"

"Alright everyone, time is up!" Antonio called out with a clap of his hands. "Let's start cleaning up so we can all watch our shows!" Alfred was especially excited about being able to sit in front of the TV again, so he was the first person out of his chair to shove the materials into the baskets. Unfortunately some of those materials were still being used by Lovino, who in turn began to curse at the American. Toris started to move towards the commotion, but he hesitated to glance back to Ivan.

"Go, go," Ivan waved his hand. "I'm not the only one here, Toris." Toris bit down on his lower lip, but he reluctantly moved to help Antonio separate the two bickering patients. He slipped the cloth matryoshka into his pocket, and Ivan smiled.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After art class most of the patients sat down on the couches around the TV, while some of them chose to go into their rooms to take a nap. Ivan wasn't allowed to do so, as he was being watched, so he stayed in the corner alone and covering his ears. That was until Yao came to collect him, as they had a one on one scheduled. It was very important that Yao asses Ivan's mental state as thoroughly as he could right now. Ivan was always a little unstable when he came out of solitude, but this had been a little more than a week of it. Something was _different _about this time, and he needed to know exactly what it was. Pulling it out of Ivan would be like pulling teeth. The largest obstacle was Ivan's own knowledge of what was considered sane and what wasn't. If something made him sound 'crazy', he wouldn't say it out loud no matter how important that it was.

It was both lucky and unlucky for Yao that Ivan held no such ideals right now. The Russian had broken through something, but it had left him feeling… _uneasy. _Yao wished that he didn't feel again, that he could distance himself from what he was hearing. Yao didn't react the way that Ivan thought he would, but the Russian didn't express if he was happy about that or not. When the long session was over with, Yao led Ivan back down to the common room personally. He sat him down in his chair by the window, and he told Sarah to keep her eyes on him. And then he went to find Toris, finding him setting up for dinner, which was coming on soon. Toris' expression took on worry as soon as he saw Yao's own, and he let himself be led away from everyone else. When they stood alone in the hallway, Yao gave a heavy sigh.

"We need to talk about Ivan."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N

About time right? I apologize for my absence of chapters; I was dealing with a particularly stressful time in my life. Let's just say that these recent chapters hit a little close to home for me, and so I found writing it to be a bit difficult. I am sure that some of you have had some of these feelings at one time or another. There's always a thin line between fiction and reality. I noticed a lot of people get sad over Gilbert's condition. Schizophrenia can be a very difficult disorder to live with, and I wanted to show the reality of that. It's the same with Ivan's disorder, and the disorder of other the patients. However! I want you all to know that disorders are not the end of the line. With help, you can learn to live a healthy life. What I'm trying to say with this tl;dr is that don't let these chapters get to you too much. This story is not a tragedy, and I believe in happy endings. For fiction, and for reality.

Thank you to NiaNook33 from DA for helping me to create Agatha to help along with the story. She won this chance for winning my fanart contest!

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There were four words that everyone feared the sound of. Unlike the dreaded three which were actually something usually good, these four were _never _good. _We need to talk. _Toris felt his heart drop into his stomach as soon as they passed Yao's lips, and he swallowed hard as that very stomach gave a small stir in complaint at his rising anxiety. "A…Alright." He said with a small frown, and Yao nodded.

"Not now, after dinner. I get doctors ready, you meet with us."

"W-with… But I'm not a…"

"You just get associates, yes?"

"W-well yes…"

"Then you come. There a reason it concern you. No more talk, I go to Arthur." Yao said firmly, and Toris was at a loss for words. The whole conversation was so vague, every worry rising up to the surface until it would have been impossible to ask them all fast enough. Yao was already turning away, and Toris felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest. Toris stood still right where he was until Yao went through the door to the stairway to the offices. Feeling his stomach twist again, he turned and headed into the common room to hurry down the hall. Violet eyes lifted to follow him, a small frown on the patient's face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sarah was a good girl, but she was distracted so easily. Ivan only had to wait until she her attention was on another patient or coworker to stand up and slip silently away. He hurried down the hall, quite nimble and quiet for a man of such a large stature. Well, the slippers on his feet helped that. He reached the door of the bathroom, pressing his hands against it before he slowly brought his ear to the cool surface. Everything was quiet for a moment, but then he heard it. A series of dry coughs from inside, followed by spitting. The faucet was turned on, and a throat was cleared before there that spitting sound came again. Ah, so that was it. Was Toris unwell? Had he gotten sick? Oh… wait.

Ivan pressed his ear harder against the door when he heard it. Quiet, barely there, but he could hear it. Soft sobs which came out more like the whimpers of a small puppy. It made Ivan angry for a moment, wondering who had upset his precious orderly so. But then the answer came to him just as suddenly; this was all Ivan's fault. He didn't know how it led back to him, he just knew that it did. Something he had done, maybe something he'd said. Yao must have spoken to Toris right? Ivan's hand was on the doorknob before he knew it. To his surprise he found it unlocked and opening swiftly.

Toris looked up with an expression even more surprised than Ivan's, panic in those wide green eyes. He was leaning against the wall, faucet still running. Hunched over a little, both hands had been on one thigh, his right one. His face was wet, though so was his bangs, and Ivan could guess that he had washed his face. Those lips parted as Toris stood up straight, moving to take a step forward. Ivan was faster, stepping inside of the very small bathroom and closing the door behind them. There was barely two feet between them as Ivan stood tall, blocking the door completely. "_Ivan_!" Toris tried to scold, though his voice was tight. Ah yes, he had gotten sick then.

"Are you hurt?" Ivan asked curiously, one eyebrow rising. Toris' back straightened, frowning now.

"What? No, I'm fine. Please move,"

"Then why were you holding your thigh? Can I see?" Ivan lent down a little, but his reaching hand was caught by Toris' fingers closing around his wrist.

"I'm not hurt! It's… it's an _old_ wound, Ivan. Long since healed." Toris explained, his breath coming a little faster now.

"What happened?"

"It was an accident." The smile that came across the Lithuanian's face was something Ivan didn't know if he'd quite seen on his precious orderly just yet. Maybe once; the smile he'd gotten after Ivan had seen Toris' scars on his back. Toris had no reason to lie if it was another thing done to him by his father though, so why would he lie to him now? Toris was trying to find a way to push Ivan gently back or reach behind him and open the door, but Ivan was making that impossible. He moved this way or that, pushed Toris' hands away. It was only a game to bide his time, but Toris was growing frustrated with it. Toris gave a sharp huff of air, looking up to meet Ivan's gaze again. "Are you going to move?"

"_Mn_!" Ivan shook his head no. "Not until I…Ah! I understand!" He said excitedly, feeling a curious joy well up within his chest.

"Understand…what?" Toris raised an eyebrow.

"You did it yourself." A revelation, as if Ivan had just found some kind of missing link between them. For a brief moment, Toris lost all expression. It was a flash, right before he frowned again, posturing to scold the Russian. But Ivan didn't stop there. He stepped forward, hands moving to press against the wall on either side of Toris' shoulders. Toris' shoulders hunched, and he couldn't keep his stubborn expression. "_What did it feel like? What did you use?_" Those green eyes that he loved so much began to change right in front of his own. They were wide now, Toris' expression strained and his color pale, lower lip starting to tremble. Toris bit that lip tightly to keep it from doing so, and he tried to look away. A sick feeling rose up inside of Ivan suddenly, and he couldn't stop. This was _good, _wasn't it? He understood! Moving his right hand, he took a hold of Toris' chin to bring his gaze back. "_Did you want to die? Did it make you feel good…_?" Ivan pressed.

"It's not what you think! I'm _stronger _than that. I wouldn't do something like you're saying!" Toris snapped in response, and Ivan raised one eyebrow.

"Who are you trying to convince? You think I don't know the look of someone who's desperate to escape?" Ivan gave a soft sigh. "_Oh Toris_…" His thumb moved, running over Toris' lower lip. Ivan gave a shudder, his smile cold but his eyes interested. For the first time in days, he felt as if he might try for a kiss. But the Lithuanian surprised him, somehow working up the courage to glare again. Reaching up, he snatched Ivan's hand away from his face.

"_Alright, fine._" Toris started out firmly, confusing Ivan with the irritation in his voice. "Yes, I did it myself. What did it feel like? It hurt, of course! I used a kitchen knife. I did _not _want to die, and it most certainly did _not _make me feel good! In fact I felt like the most terrible person in the world! In those first few moments when I sat there in shock while watching the blood start to flow much faster than I had intended, all I could think of was how stupid that I was!" Toris' voice cracked, and he gave a strange smile. Ivan felt an ache in his chest, hurt by this turn of events. "What did you expect me to say, Ivan? What did you _want _me to say? Don't _ever _use _my feelings_ for your sick games, Ivan!" Panic welled up inside of the Russian, and he tried to speak quickly.

"_I didn't-_!" But Toris' hand came up to press flat on Ivan's chest, and the Russian let himself be pushed back into the door.

Ivan's heart was racing, watching that flushed face with a sense of wonder. He hadn't expected this at all! Toris always seemed so… so _fragile. _As if a little push too far might make him break, Ivan swore he almost had! He'd seen those eyes, _finally _like his own! That pale face, that trembling lower lip! How… _How _had he snapped back from that? Ivan's lips parted to speak again, but just as he did he felt the door give way from behind him. Stumbling back, he heard a female's voice give a small shout. Hands caught his arm, and he looked over to see Sarah help him keep his footing. She glanced into the bathroom, but then she smiled.

"First day out and you're already back to harassing Toris? The poor thing! You have to start behaving, Ivan." She said with a chuckle, patting his arm. "Are you alright, Toris?" She asked, glancing into the bathroom. Toris swallowed, turned to the side where he'd grabbed a paper towel the second he'd heard Sarah's voice. He'd wiped at his face a little, and he was rubbing his hands with it now.

"I'm just fine! Thanks for that Sarah, Ivan really is impossible." He said with a small laugh. Looking back to Ivan, Sarah gave a playful frown.

"I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you, you know! You're going to get me in trouble! Come on, you can play with Toris later." She tugged at Ivan's arm. Ivan hesitated, glancing back to Toris. Swallowing, he reached out.

"Tori…" The tips of his fingers touched Toris' sleeve, but Toris pulled his arm out of reach as if he had been burned. Ivan's hand pulled back quickly as well, surprised.

"Do as she says Ivan. For once, please don't play games." Toris said quietly, but with a voice that Ivan didn't like. It wasn't kind, and it wasn't warm. Right now he was only speaking words, just like all the other orderlies. Ivan didn't know how to react, but he was afraid to disobey for some reason. Oh, he'd done it now. He'd gone too far, hadn't he? This wasn't what he had wanted! Pulling his scarf up over his nose quickly, Ivan nodded. His throat was too tight to speak anyway, so all he could do was give that nod. He kept his eyes on Toris as he was led back down the hall, looking over his shoulder until the wall blocked his sight of the Lithuanian. Ivan had made another mistake, and this time it wasn't physical.

Worst of all was that he had no idea _what _he had done! He'd reached out to Toris because he'd sensed something there inside him that was familiar. And for just a moment, Ivan had thought that all of his misery had a companion. That Toris was somehow suffering just as he was, deep inside. He knew they had both been abused, that they had siblings to protect. Ivan would never forget that brief expression he'd brought out of the Lithuanian. Pure anguish; a pain that couldn't be articulated even within the length of a novel. But… then it had all gone away. It wasn't _fair_! Ivan didn't _want _to be the only one to keep suffering!

Ivan had been thrown away, branded with the label of _insane _and completely forgotten. He'd thought that maybe if he could bring the suffering that he saw inside of Toris to the _outside _that he had a chance at not being alone. They could be happy together in misery, couldn't they? At least they wouldn't be _alone_! Maybe Toris hadn't been as wounded as Ivan had first thought. And if Toris wasn't deeply flawed… did that mean that he really _could _leave Ivan here alone?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ivan didn't eat at dinner, and Toris silently blamed himself for that. He'd caught sight of Ivan as the Russian moved from the dining area and back to the common room, hiding his face in his scarf just as much as he could. Violet eyes locked with his for a moment, and Toris had almost held his breath. He felt bad over what had happened earlier. He had to have missed something. He shouldn't have snapped and treated Ivan like that, should never have recoiled from his hand! If he was going to react like that when something personal was touched on, Toris had no business working in this field. Worst of all, he knew that Ivan would be blaming himself as well. He wanted to go to him, try and tell him much more calmly what had happened without Ivan's triggering words.

But that gaze was gone from his own, and only then did Toris realize that he had been frowning. _Damn it. _He did move for the common room, but a hand caught his arm. Looking back, he locked eyes with Yao instead. "It time for meeting."

"J-just a minute, I have to…"

"It now or not at all, Toris. It late already and some of doctors need to go home." Yao said as he tugged the orderly along with him towards the door. Toris followed a little reluctantly, glancing back towards the hallway in desperate hope that Ivan had lingered. No such luck, as the Russian was already out of sight. With a heavy heart and an aching stomach, Toris gave in and followed the Chinese doctor.

The room they came to was the same room that they had met in to discuss the incident with Michael and Ivan. Toris took a seat between Yao and Antonio, while on the other side was Arthur and a woman that Toris hadn't seen before. She almost appeared to be tired, slight circles under her blue-green eyes. Her dark blond hair held a touch of red, gathered on the back of her head in a messy bun. Her age seemed to be late thirties or early forties, the winkles at the corners of her eyes slightly noticeable. Arthur cleared his throat once that were all seated, lifting his hand to indicate the woman. "Toris, I don't believe you have met Mrs. Agitha Foster."

"Call me Aggie." The woman said, raising from her seat a little to reach across the table to offer her hand. Toris quickly did the same, giving it a firm shake. They both sat back down, and she cut Toris off before he spoke. "They told me about you, so no need for introductions." She waved her hand and Toris only gave a slight nod, fingers fidgeting a little in his lap.

"I'll cut to the chase." Arthur said plainly, opening a folder in front of him. Toris saw a picture of Ivan paper-clipped in the corner, feeling another pang of guilt. "I know you're wondering why you're here Toris, so I'll let Yao explain to you." Toris glanced beside him to the Asian doctor, who glanced up from his own folder and to Toris.

"I decide take you on as intern." Yao said quite bluntly. Toris nearly choked, feeling suffocated by everyone around him for a moment. It was almost as if this should have been private, but instead he felt exposed. Of course he wanted this, but it was quite sudden! He'd only been an orderly for about a month now! Sure, he was a fully qualified nurse and orderly with a specialty in psychology, and his associates, but it felt like a bigger chance than he should have gotten.

"I-I'm not…"

"You ready. But you stay orderly for now. Only mean you have right to know more about Ivan therapy, and aid in it with no break doctor client privilege." Yao explained, glancing back to his folder as if this was nothing at all. Toris did relax a little to know that too much wasn't going to be expected of him too soon. Sure, he knew about disorders and the types of therapy, but he had a lot more to learn. Internships could last years, and there were many ways that he could learn things faster this way. It would even help his schooling to have hands on experience. Toris smiled a little, but before he could speak the woman in the room beat him to it.

"You do realize this is ridiculous, don't you?" She asked with a slightly grumpy tone. She drew all eyes to her, most of them frowning, but she didn't seem fazed. "Oh come on, don't act like you don't know." She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Not only is he young, but he's gotten himself hurt. Ivan sprained his wrist, he made a mistake about not making sure his medication was taken, and that's not to mention how much he gets harassed by the patient in question. You're putting the kid in harms way."

"But this is what Toris chooses, Aggie." Antonio spoke up with his light frown.

"Does he? Is he _capable _of choosing?"

"Of course I am! I want to help." Toris spoke up for himself. Agatha gave him an expression of pity.

"I know you do honey, but this is a big responsibility. A mistake could be serious, and I don't think you're ready for that. We've all made mistakes and learned from them, but this is a critical time in Ivan's life. He's reached the end of his time floating in between. If he doesn't confront his past and his trauma—"

"Ivan therapy not up for debate!" Yao snapped, glaring at the female psychologist.

"You tried it _once, _Yao, and you gave up when you were stabbed. You reinforced that he can use violence to get out of stressful situations." At this Yao seethed more silently, unable to give a proper response.

"Have you ever successfully _used _catharsis insight, Agatha?" Not it was Arthur who spoke up, one thick eyebrow raised but not judging. The woman tensed a little, seeming to grit her teeth.

"It's a proven method. When exposed to the root of their problems enough, looking deeper into it each time, the patient will learn about their selves and how to confront them."

"All theory. You like say theories but you no practice them with good result many time." Yao waved his hand, crossing his own arms. Agatha seemed to become a bit more uncomfortable, and so she changed her tactic.

"Even if Toris can handle this responsibility, what about Ivan? He's had so much bad enforcement, what good will giving him what he wants be? He needs more exposure; he needs to learn to behave around more than just a choice few. As well as posing a potential danger to a brand new orderly and intern, he'll be encouraged to isolate himself to only few people." Agatha uncrossed her arms, raising one hand in a 'it's hopeless' gesture. Antonio looked a little concerned, but this time it was Arthur who spoke up.

"Believe me, there is no encouraging Ivan. He's not a child, and he's not simple. You don't just stick him with an adult and wait for him to become attached. It's not that easy. He will reject anyone who has even the slightest flaw in his logic. He's rejected almost everyone for three straight years. We've lost what, six interns and orderlies over that time, all directly related to injuries or threats? We can't afford any more of this. It's this or nothing. It's this, or we move him to Level Two."

"That would be giving up." Agatha said with disapproval.

"That's correct. And is anyone here willing to give up?" Arthur sat back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the occupants of the room slowly. "…I didn't think so. Then this decision is up to Toris."

"Of course I'll—" Toris was cut off once again, and he felt his irritation start to build slowly.

"Toris is biased. We all know it, so why isn't anyone saying anything? He could use therapy for himself! He's got issues concerning his mother." Once the words were spoken a hush fell over the room. The silence was heavy, and only Toris' slightly elevated breath made a sound.

"T…Toris," Antonio was the one that spoke first, reaching out to touch Toris' shoulder. But Toris' expression was stubborn, his face hot with color.

"What is this?" He demanded suddenly, his voice not rising but the anger obvious. "We can protect the privacy of the patients but the staff is fair game?"

"It's in your entrance file. You know very well we have to do extensive background checks." Arthur admitted, though he was frowning a bit. Toris swallowed, his throat tight. What was with all of his personal flaws being exposed all in one day? His fists clenched in his lap under the table. He did his very best to remain calm, even though he felt like shouting and crying at the same time.

"Alright, I can't stand it anymore. It's been mentioned before and I know what all of you think, so I'll just lay it all out there. Yes. This _is _about my mother. Alright? Is that what all of you want to hear?"

"Toris, you don't need to…"

"No, let him finish." Arthur raised his hand to stop Antonio from finishing. Toris took his chance, taking a deep breath.

"I left her. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't take her with me and so I left her in the care of the state. I _had _to! I couldn't afford it and if I stayed with her I would be stuck in Lithuania forever. I haven't forgiven myself for it." His voice nearly broke, but he kept it even. "That does affect my will not to give up on a patient. However," another deep breath, and he felt the sting of his nails digging into his palms. "I would do this for any patient. I have become close to Ivan, that's true. But I'm not _biased. _What am I supposed to do? Get injured by another patient before you believe me?"

"Of course not." Antonio said quickly.

"Then you _have _to believe me. I have a _chance _to help Ivan to improve and I'm not going to let it go by me because it's a _challenge. _If I give up on him it will encourage me to give up on another patient who's difficult. If I _do _get injured again, _then _I will put more stock into it. But Ivan hasn't been violent with me since. When I was supposed to be taking care of his scarf and he saw me without it, he began to count. When Alfred provoked him, he counted. He's trying so hard… The _least _that I can do for him is to try my best as well." Toris let his hands relax slowly, sitting back in his chair with a breath of relief. It felt _good _to get that all out. Antonio was smiling a bit sadly, letting go of Toris' shoulder. Agatha was glancing away, and Arthur was expressionless. Glancing to Yao, he caught the Asian wiping the corner of his eye very swiftly.

"That good for me." He said firmly, his eyes glued to the file spread out in front of him on the table.

"And for me." Arthur agreed. "No more complaints?" He asked, glancing right to Agatha. She remained silent, though she did turn her gaze back. Antonio shook his head, and Arthur nodded. "Then it's settled. I'm sorry you had to go through that Toris, but it _was_ something you needed to face. It's a topic we've walked on eggshells about, but we needed to assess your real feelings on it. You've eased our main concern." Toris hoped that the shudder in his deep breath went unnoticed as he smiled.

"Good."

"Now then, time to get down to the real business." With no objections, everyone seemed quite willing to move on. Yao lifted a sheet of paper, covered in his handwriting which was of course in his native tongue.

"It no surprise when I say Ivan depressed." He stated first, drawing a few nods. "This largely due to memories of him time in Russian institution. I am no able to determine if he block these memories his self or something else bring them up." Setting the paper back down. "Some this we knew from chart. Injuries he come with." He held his hand out and Arthur pulled a page from Ivan's file, the genderless full-body outline with marks drawn on, handing it across the table. Setting it down, Yao used his capped pen to point out his mentioned areas. "Wrists and ankles from struggle in restraints. This could be bad protection on cuffs, but some them deep. When he come he malnourish, and display some learn helpless. I not think this only from father."

"It's possible though." Arthur reminded. "That's a symptom he seems to be mostly recovered from, and I don't think it can be used as evidence."

"It _can _be use." Yao corrected. "Him tell me and Toris about neglect. He left in solitude for long times, no food no water. Him blood test on entry show no medication. He left to him psychosis and depression, restrain and lock up when he act on them." The pen moved to Ivan's forearms. "Some injury self inflict. This show depression is obvious. He still do this." Yao added sadly, and Toris felt his stomach ache a little, thinking of his incident with Ivan earlier that day.

"You've speculated all of this before, so why is it coming up again now?" Arthur questioned. Yao's eyes didn't lift from the paper.

"Five years. Five years he suffer this." His voice was a little hollow now. "And just now he tell about doctor from before. He said doctor like me."

"Someone who helped him." Agatha concluded, but Yao looked up quickly.

"_No. _Asian. He say he tall, have dark hair and eyes. This man haunt him." Yao sat back a little, but the tip of his pen still rest on the paper. "Ivan talk about him father many time. He not want talk about this man. He forget him. Ivan hate him father, he _fear _this man."

"Was there an Asian doctor in Russia that we know of?" Antonio asked quietly.

"This could be the root that we've been looking for. I know the fire was the catalyst, but we can't know for sure that his disorder had anything to do with it. There are thousands of abused children who don't grow up… this damaged." Agatha reached up to brush a few loose strands of her bangs from her face.

"I know there's no doctor listed on his primary intake. And I believe when Yao called them they only gave denials and refused to give detail about his five years there." Arthur nearly muttered, not happy at all about how that institution was run. He ran his own of course, but his bias had nothing to do with that. The neglect and apparent abuse is what angered him. Toris swallowed, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"What should we do?" He spoke up with a small frown.

"We call him sisters." Yao stated, and he finally let the pen leave the paper.

"Natalya will be hard to reach." Arthur stated, "But Ekaterina might be available. She responds much better to written letters however, so we should send one as soon as possible. Surely she knows who cared for her brother for so long. She's the one that signed the papers to move him here."

"Do you think she knew?" Toris wondered.

"Maybe." Yao said with a hint of irritation. "She not visit him once. She have money from father, but she stay away."

"And Natalya?"

"Not allow. Ivan forbid it." Yao said with an even deeper frown. "He panic every time I bring up, I give in."

"Another trigger, but from before the fire." Agatha stated with a frown. "How is he supposed to get better if you keep tip-toeing around Ivan's deepest wounds, Yao?" Yao looked up with a glare.

"Three years I spend with Ivan! You know nothing!" His voice had risen, and Arthur opened his mouth to speak up. "I get all this history, he just now tell! I did nothing to get it, he tell me himself!"

"_Yao, _lower your voice." Arthur demanded, and the Chinese doctor only changed his gaze.

"You make this woman quiet!"

"Why you sexist…!"

"Come now, everyone…" Antonio had raised both hands, patting at the air with a helpless smile.

"This is ridiculous." All eyes turned to the one who spoke up, and Toris tensed a little. His eyes were on the paper however, the expressionless, faceless picture on the table. "Nearly eight years, and no one knows _anything _about him. His mother dies, and then he goes through a terrible and life altering fire. He's thrown into an institution more like a prison, where he's abused and neglected. One sister avoids him and the other he shuts out." His eyes stung with tears that he didn't allow to fall. "How… How does this _happen _to one human being…?" Quiet fell over the room again, all heads bowing or looking off to the side a bit. Finally Yao lifted his hand, grasping Toris' shoulder tightly.

"I know it hard, Toris. This what job is. Some time this happen, we get what people not want. Outcast, troubled, disturbed, and some time unlucky. Can you handle?" Toris turned his green eyes to meet Yao's, taking a slow breath, and this time he didn't hide the shudder in his breath.

"I can. I won't pretend it doesn't hurt, but I'll handle it. No matter _what, _I don't want to give up on Ivan. If he goes up to Level Two, Ivan will never get the help that he needs. I'll do anything I need to."

"I glad you say that, because what we want not be easy." Yao admitted, picking up the paper on the table and handing it back to Arthur.

"What do you mean?"

"Ivan depression get too much. He tell me he want death, he want it stop. He hate his reflection again, not even want to bathe. I believe if he get chance, he try and suicide." Yao's voice held a deep emotion that he didn't try and hide. Toris felt his heart sinking, remembering again earlier that day. The warning signs were all there, and he had pushed Ivan _away. _Ivan was begging for help and Toris had abandoned him.

"_What can we do_?" He nearly whispered. Yao looked back to his notes, not answering. Antonio looked uncomfortable, and Arthur was frowning again as he packed up his notes.

"ECT." He said without emotion. A painful shock ran through Toris' chest at the mention of it, and his lips parted for a small gasp. "I know it sounds a little extreme, and I don't approve of it for small matters. But Yao and I have come to the conclusion that medication is not doing enough. Ivan has been moved to high suicide risk, leaving us with little choice. We're going to bring it up to him tomorrow and see what he says."

"H-has he undergone it before?" Electroconvulsive therapy; Toris couldn't even say it out loud. It was extreme, used when medications weren't working. He wasn't going to argue that Ivan's medication seemed to have ceased to work, but it all left a very bad taste in his mouth.

"Not in time here." Yao said as he picked up his notes to straighten them. "Almost, but he react so bad we not mention it again. Right now there no choice, he have to change before we try more medicine." Toris couldn't think of any other arguments, leaving him quiet and troubled. After a few more moments of silence, Arthur spoke up.

"I think that concludes this meeting. Welcome to this table for Level One, Toris. Some day you'll sit here for good. I do hope you can get along with Agatha, as she'll be joining you in the male wing for the time being. Since we're short on orderlies already and you're going to be spending some time shadowing Yao we need the extra hands." Toris only nodded as Arthur, Agatha, and Yao stood up. He slowly stood as well, followed by Antonio. As everyone began to leave, Antonio reached out to grasp Toris' wrist gently. He paused, looking back. When they were alone in the room Antonio gave a small smile.

"If you ever need to talk, I promise to keep it between us." The doctor said quietly. Toris returned that smile, reminded of why he liked the Spaniard so much. "It really helps to have someone to talk to, believe me. Your first patients are always the hardest, and Ivan's as sad as they come. I don't want you to get burnt out before you can even begin." He worried. Toris shook his head.

"I meant it when I said I could handle it. But I'm not saying I won't take you up on that offer some time… Thank you." Toris said with all honestly. He turned to leave again, but Antonio called out to him.

"Toris, wait." He seemed anxious, and Toris was curious. "I might be wrong, but I don't think I am, and I think you're a little more attached to Ivan than just professionally." Toris felt his face getting hot, and for a moment he panicked a little, a denial on the tip of his tongue.

"O-of course, I consider him a friend." He stuttered.

"_More_ than a friend, Toris?"

"I-I don't…!"

"_It's alright._" Antonio patted downwards with his hands again, as if he was calming a child. Toris averted his eyes, reaching up to rub at his rebellious cheeks. "Listen, I'm not going to judge you. All I wanted to say… Was that getting attached right now is going to be extremely painful. He's not going to get better fast, and you're going to be caught right in the middle of that. The worst of it."

"_I know._"

"Oh, you have an _idea, _but you don't _know._" Antonio's voice was harder suddenly, and Toris looked back. He saw pain in those kind eyes, and he felt sobered by it. He couldn't lie _now _could he? "I only wanted to tell you that if you can bear it… _wait. _Focus on getting him _better, _and maybe _then _you can start something."

"My primary focus has always been to make him better, Antonio."

"I believe you. That's why I'm warning you. Letting yourself nurse those feelings even as you work for what's best for him will eat at you from the inside. Eventually you might start to feel that emptiness from the feelings that can't be returned. When he stops being desperate for attention, for safety and comfort, you're going to find yourself alone." Antonio's words rang true, and they hurt deeply to hear. Toris' heart was pounding, and he swallowed hard.

"…Is that what happened to you?" He asked quietly. Antonio's smile became wider, and infinitely sadder. He raised his hand to pat Toris on the shoulder.

"Not yet, friend. Not yet." He said as he stepped by. Toris let him go, his world spinning right now. Too much too soon.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A small blow had come to Toris when he returned down to the ward. He heard from a teary Sarah that Ivan had been sent to his room early, given his sleeping medication and restrained. Ivan had snatched a cigarette from Francis' lips and put it out on his own wrist. It meant that Ivan wouldn't need his medication, which removed the purpose of Toris going to see him before he began his overnight shift. It was Yao who had come to him a bit later, telling him that the routine still stood. Ivan might remain asleep, but if Toris stopped visiting him at night right now, the Russian might become severely distressed.

The room was dark and quiet as Toris entered. The door clicked closed behind him, and he moved over to the bedside table. Clicking on the lamp, he beheld only Ivan's peaceful expression. They'd taken off his scarf, leaving it on the table across the room. They weren't going to let him wear it any time he had no supervision, and that was going to be tough on Ivan. Sitting on the side of the bed carefully, Toris gave a heavy breath.

Maybe Antonio was right. Ivan had been the one to pull him in to this mockery of a relationship. Toris had been the one to hurt the Russian, encourage him and then let him down. If he hadn't let things get so personal in the first place, he could have avoided some of this pain. For himself, _and _for Ivan. Reaching out to brush the back of his knuckles over Ivan's soft cheek, he saw those eyelids flutter. Slowly they opened, but they took a moment to focus. Ivan wiggled his wrist in the restraints, brushing Toris' hip. "_I'm not dreaming? Toris came_?" He whispered.

"Yes Ivan. I'm here." Toris smiled, but Ivan looked troubled.

"Did they make you?" Now Toris frowned a little.

"Of course not. I wanted to see you."

"But… earlier…" Ivan's fingers moved, until he could get a grip on Toris' shirt. Toris let the pain touch his own expression, leaning over the Russian so that he hovered above his face.

"Don't talk about it." Toris shook his head. "Neither of us were at fault about that. We simply misunderstood each other… Yes, I cut myself Ivan. But I told you the truth, I didn't want to die. I didn't want the pain, either. I was curious…" Ivan was interested now, staying almost uncharacteristically quiet. Toris swallowed, continuing. "I got the idea… from someone I knew. It helped them, so I thought it might help me too. I hurt _so much…_" He took a breath. "I knew nothing about it other than that it should be somewhere out of sight. I thought my thigh was a good place, because I couldn't wear shorts or anything anyway." He didn't even have to say why—bruises on his legs. Ivan knew all too well.

"You must have done it wrong…" Ivan decided suddenly, and Toris frowned. "When I do it, it feels better." Toris shook his head a little.

"It's not _better _Ivan… There's a rush of endorphins that make you feel good… It doesn't fix anything!" But Ivan only gave Toris his expression of doubt, as if the orderly was only being foolish again. Toris closed his eyes for a moment, counting silently. He couldn't press this right now, Ivan needed to sleep. When he opened his eyes again, he forced a smile. "Do you want me to lay with…"

"_Nyet._" Ivan said quickly. Toris felt a pang in his chest, and his expression fell. "I don't want to wake up alone all over again. Stay with me…" Toris bit his lower lip for a moment.

"…You know I can't do that." Now Ivan frowned, his voice bitter.

"Then what good _are _you?" He asked with a huff, turning his face away. It was his tone which caught Toris more than anything. It wasn't teasing. Toris felt his will slowly breaking.

_When he stops being desperate for attention, for safety and comfort, you're going to find yourself alone._

"…_No good._" Toris whispered. Ivan glanced back curiously. He reacted with a jolt when he felt a drop of wetness land on his cheek. Toris' face was a bit shadowed with the hair on the sides of his face, but that wasn't exactly _rain_

"T-Toris?"

"_I'm no good at all, Ivan._" Toris sat back, smiling even though his eyes were filled with tears. He stood up from the bed then, leaning over to turn off the lamp.

"W-wait! Where are you going?" Ivan's voice was panicked now, and he was tugging at his restraints.

"You don't need me here. There's nothing I can do to help you right now Ivan… Just go back to sleep." The orderly turned his back, heading for the door. Ivan's voice rose, his tone higher in his desperation.

"_Nyet_, wait! Don't go! I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! Toris—Toris don't go! Don't leave me! _Please_!" Toris stopped at the door, resting his hand against it as he felt the hot streaks of tears fall over his cheeks. It had been building all day long, and he didn't want Ivan to see it.

"I _have _to!" He responded, trying his hardest to sound firm. "It was _wrong _Ivan. We were both confused…"

"N…No! Say you love me! You love me, Toris. Tell me! _Tell me you love me_!" Ivan was panting now, and the whole bed shook as he jerked at the restraints. He couldn't get out of them this time, they'd done them up tightly.

"I won't! _Ivan…_" For a moment his voice shook. Toris cleared his throat. "I'm going to do _everything _I can to make you well again. I'll stand by you even if no one else will. I'll make you better even if I have to go to Russia and get answers for myself. But… _I can't. I'm not allowed to love you._"

"Liar! _You're a liar Toris_!" Ivan sniffed, and Toris knew he was crying as well. "I'm not stupid, I'm not a child! I told you already… _I love you_! You let them get to you, Toris! You let them corrupt you, tell you I'm bad for you!"

"You _are _bad for me! …And _I'm_ bad for _you_!"

"I _need _you!"

"No, you need _help_! I can give you help."

"I need _you_!" Ivan's voice broke in the middle, and he let an audible sob slip free. Oh, Toris' heart was wrenched painfully at that sound. What should he do? What _could _he do? "_I didn't mean it…_" Ivan sobbed now. "_Toris is good, Toris is everything, Toris is… Toris is all I have left_." Both occupants were startled by the sudden knock at the door. A feminine voice called out from the other side.

"Toris, is everything alright?" There was a small silence as Toris tried to get his own breath under control. "Do I need to come in?"

"N-no! No Liz, it's alright. Ivan was… having a nightmare. I woke him up." Toris answered. There was another brief silence, and then she spoke again.

"Alright… Call if you need anything." After a moment when he was sure she was gone, Toris took a deep and calming breath, resting his forehead on the door as he reached up to wipe his eyes. He heard Ivan give a small whine from behind them.

"_Help._" He murmured, and Toris glanced over his shoulder. He couldn't see much by the light of the window. "My face…" Ah, that was right. Ivan had been crying too. There was no way that Toris could refuse, knowing how uncomfortable it would be to have to let everything dry on your face. Stepping slowly over to the bed, he sat on the side again. Pulling his sleeve over his hand and leaning over again, he wiped at Ivan's face in the dark. His eyes were adjusting now, enough to make out one another's expressions. When he was done he moved to pull back, but Ivan moved quickly. His right hand jerked out from the restraints, catching that wrist.

"_Ivan_-!" Toris' hand was moved to Ivan's chest, where it was pressed tightly to it by Ivan's grasp.

"_Do you feel it Toris? My heart. It beats for you. If you leave me, it will stop._" Toris sighed.

"No it won't Ivan. That's impossible."

"_It's possible. _You told me you killed your father with hate. You could kill me without love!"

"Ivan…" Toris tried to scold, but he was just too tired. That skin was warm under Ivan's shirt, and his strong heart was hammering away. He really _was _quite distressed. Toris swallowed hard, meeting Ivan's gaze.

"I don't care whatever they said, Toris. This feeling won't go away! I have been happy and I have been sad, but I never stopped loving Toris! Not even when I want to die."

"Please don't say that." Toris begged.

"Kiss me."

"No."

"_Please_?" Ivan whispered, and Toris felt the Russian's heart beat a little faster under his hand. It was true what Ivan said. He had been manic, and now he was depressed. In a time when you could sometimes love no one, Ivan still loved him.

"_I hate you._"

"_I love you,_" Ivan responded with a smile as Toris was leaning down. Their lips met softly, slightly damp and oh so warm. Ivan's tongue slipped between parted lips to trace the crease of Toris' mouth. The Lithuanian resisted at first, giving a small whine of complaint. But slowly they parted, and he let the Russian inside. And _finally _there was a peace in his heart. As he felt Ivan's racing under his palm, the Ivan's hand moved to press against Toris' own chest as their tongues tangled against one another. The kiss broke for heavy breath, eyes but slivers, breath shared as they gazed at one another for a moment. "_Lay with me._"

"_I won't be here in the morning._"

"_Give me your heart, Toris. If you do that, you can never leave me._"

"…_Idiot._" Toris muttered as he pulled back. He lay out beside the Russian, who used his unrestrained hand to run his fingers through Toris' hair as the Lithuanian nuzzled into his sensitive neck.

"I knew that Toris couldn't leave me_._"

"…You're wrong. I _can _leave you, Ivan. I'm capable of terrible things…" His hand pressed against Ivan's chest, feeling that heart rate even out slowly. "…But I _won't._ Even if you stop loving me, I won't regret it. It would be worth it…" Toris closed his eyes, his breath falling out over Ivan's neck and making him shiver.

"Don't speak such stories. Toris needs me, and I'll never leave him." Ivan scoffed, and Toris' fingers closed to grasp at Ivan's shirt.

"_I have your heart._"

"_Mm… _You've had it for a while."

"Promise me, Ivan. Promise me you'll trust me. You'll do whatever it takes to make yourself get better. I refuse to be yours until you're outside with me. I'll keep your heart safe until then…"

"That's an easy promise, Toris." Ivan chuckled softly, yawning soon after. "_I promise._"

Toris had to do his best not to fall asleep, already so tired from everything that had happened today. He had to stay up all night for his shift, too. Since it was Liz, she might let him nap in the safe room, but he couldn't fall asleep _here. _After a while he felt Ivan's breathing even out, and Toris gave a sigh of relief for the last time that day. He didn't know if he'd made the _right _choice, but it was a choice that left him satisfied. This is what Ivan wanted, and what Toris wanted to work towards. Even if he was hurt in the future, he meant what he had said. It would be worth it, if it helped Ivan at all. And Toris got something out of this too. Someone who _understood. _Ivan had seen his pain when no one else did. He'd kissed Toris' scars and known exactly what they meant, even what they felt like.

"…_love you._" Toris whispered.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N

It's embarrassing for me to look at my first chapter, and then this one. My style has changed so much its barely comparable. That said; have no fear, this is a very hopeful chapter! For some reason this chapter had major formatting issues so I hope it uploads alright...

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Toris sat in his windowsill, window open and eyes closed. The sun was mostly hidden behind gray clouds, not so unusual for this time of the year. Call it depressive, but it was rather fitting right now, and it matched the thin trail of smoke slowly curling upwards towards that very sky. The cigarette was halfway burned, the ash long but it hadn't fallen yet. The smell was bitter, and Toris fought the urge to cough whenever it would actually blow into his face. He _hated _the scent of it. It represented everything that he hated, and it was the very symbol of unresolved issues.

What was it that Agatha had said? Dig down into the heart of the matter, until you reach the root. Visit it again and again until you began to understand. If you understood, you could begin to heal. Tch, it was all theory in the end. Most therapies were. The age of psychology was still quite young. It used to be much more misunderstood. Unfortunate individuals locked away for their lives, tortured with things like improper ECT, water therapy, and sensory deprivation. How barbaric to think that some of those troubled men and woman had actually died in the pursuit of knowledge!

Toris was no stranger to analyzing himself over and over until he was second guessing every little thing he did. Why did he feel this way about that? Why would he choose those words when describing this? His poor brothers weren't safe from those moods some days. Toris would try hard not to do it, but he would pry. Eduard came off cold, almost as if in denial that anything had ever happened. He'd always been the quiet one, speaking up only when they were alone. But Raivis, he was very talkative… until the subject of their life in Lithuania arose. He hated the country, whether he'd been born there or not. Toris didn't _hate _his country, but he had felt suffocated by it.

He'd tried hard to fight his bias. But every glimpse of a police man or the sight of a politician on TV made his skin crawl. Doctors were the worst though. Doctors didn't ask questions if you paid them enough, and Janis always had. Money they didn't have, money he'd rather spend on booze, gambling, and… and cigarettes. They say some things came as a predisposition from your parents. Addictive habits were one of those, and Toris had felt the pull quite a few times. He often thanked God that Eduard and Raivis were not related by blood. Toris was the only one who was cursed, and call him a martyr but he liked it just fine that way.

He was strong enough to withstand it. He would sit down for a drink in a tavern without getting tipsy, he'd play cards with some of the older gentleman of this apartment complex that he'd come to know. They bet small, but it was betting, right? And these disgusting 'cancer sticks' as Eduard had come to call them, he could light one up and just let it burn. It was tempting, the thought of lifting it to his lips and breathing in as deeply as he could. Toris generally avoided pills and medicine, finding them quite seductive to a melancholy mind. It was the same with cigarettes; he had heard those could give stress relief for a short time. Just the _memory_ of those hacking coughs, yellowed teeth, and foul breath could extinguish any thoughts of ever lifting one up past the level of his chest.

Toris prided himself on willpower. He'd been told many times that he wore his heart on his sleeve. They often said he was a bit too sensitive, that he'd never make it in his profession because of that. The conversation yesterday still weighed on him. Everyone thought he had this willpower because he felt guilty for leaving his mother behind in Lithuania. But he hadn't left her because it had been too hard to take! No, perhaps his reasons had been even more selfish than that. He never pretended that he was a saint, but no one ever saw that side of him. The side that would do whatever it took to stay on top of his goals, to not fall behind. Of course he had never considered leaving his brothers behind. They would have gone into the care of the state again, likely been separated. That guilt he couldn't have lived with. There had been a lot of red tape involved, and a large chunk of insurance money. Such irony that he'd had to use the very tactics that he hated in order to get what he wanted.

The click of the front door startled Toris. Sitting up straight, he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sound of familiar voices. Quickly he snuffed out the cigarette, standing up to wave his hands as if he could force all the smoke which had crept inside out of it. The voices stopped, and coughing started instead. "_Shit._" He saw a flash as Raivis rushed past the open door of his room, across the apartment into the bedroom he shared with Eduard. He winced in expectation, and sure enough Eduard came storming in moments later.

"Are you _kidding__ me,_Toris?" His middle brother demanded. "_Cigarettes_? Do you have any idea-!"

"Yes!" Toris cut Eduard off, half irritated and half guilty. "I'm sorry, but you two were supposed to be at school!"

"Raivis got sick and the school called me. I didn't want him to ride the bus alone so I went to pick him up and ride back with him. The second we smelled the smoke, he…!" Toris turned his back to his brother, towards the window, running both hands through his hair. He knew. Raivis would go pale and begin to tremble, followed by that cough. It happened any time he caught the scent of cigarettes, whether they were in public or not. "You shouldn't even have them, let alone _light_ them! How could you be that inconsiderate?" Toris didn't respond. He thought about snapping back something like 'You wouldn't understand.', but then perhaps Eduard was right. They were nothing but bad memories, reminders of the living nightmares they'd endured.

"I'm sorry."

"Tell that to Raivis!"

"I will."

"And take a shower! You reek of smoke."

"I'll do that right now." Toris agreed. Eduard stayed silent for a moment, seemingly run out of chastising words.

"…Good. I'm going to go light some candles." This time there was no response from the oldest of the brothers, and so Eduard simply left the room with a huff.

Tempting. It was all _so_ tempting.

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Ivan's morning wasn't much more pleasant. He'd thought he would be alright, waking up without Toris beside him. It was becoming like a reoccurring dream of sorts. Every morning after he wondered if he had only dreamed that Toris had come to lay down with him. If it was, it would be the first time he had dreamed or hallucinated something pleasant that didn't end in flames or in cold, damp rooms. But if he looked closely enough, he could see the curled up corner of the blanket that the Lithuanian had lay the night before. Strapped to the bed as he was, there was no way Ivan could have done it by himself.

And what a night! Ivan hadn't cried because of someone else in a long time. He'd almost ruined everything, _again_! The thoughts came in without permission; _everything __you __touch __breaks,__ you __ruin__ everything, __you__'__re __a__ selfish __and __disgusting __man__ and__ you__ should __just__…_

"_Ssshhh__…_" Ivan soothed himself with a shuddering breath. "_You__ are __loved.__ You__ are __loved. __Terrible__ people __don__'__t __feel __love, __they __don__'__t __get __love.__ You __are__…_" Violet eyes opened to stare up at the white ceiling. The bad thoughts weren't natural. They weren't _him. _But just like his nightmares and his music box, he couldn't stop them from creeping into his mind like whispers from the demon on his shoulder. "_Helovesyou, he__'__llcomeback, helovesyou, he__'__llcomeback, helovesyou__—_." That whispered mantra was cut off by the sound of his door unlocking. Looking over to the door, what he saw when it opened was not the expected kind orderly who always woke him at all. _Yao,_and behind him… Ivan frowned at the English doctor. "Why did you bring _him_?" He muttered.

"Because we three need talk. It time for last resort, Ivan."

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.

"Breathe, Ivan."

But how could he? Staring up at those lights made his stomach tighten into impossible knots. He felt as if he was suffocating, as if oxygen refused to fill his lungs. He couldn't move, and he was having trouble recognizing the faces hovering above him. Violet eyes darted back and forth, and he was pulling at the restraints helplessly.

"He's fighting the anesthetic." An unfamiliar voice spoke up.

"He be fine, it take him longer." Yao's voice he could pick out. There was a shadowy figure above him that he couldn't quite focus on, and though he could see a hand near his head now and then, he couldn't quite feel it touching him. "You breathe, Ivan. Count. Toris tell you count, yes? Count for us."

_Toris._Unfortunately for Yao, Ivan's anxiety only increased at the mention of that name. _I __changed__ my __mind_! It seemed no one was listening to him, though voices were starting to sound like nonsense. He wondered for a moment if Yao had switched to speaking in Mandarin. _Yao__ please, __I__'__ve__ changed__ my__ mind!__ I __don__'__t__ want__ this__—__don__'__t__ do__ it __please!_ That shadow over him was gone, and he felt his breath hitch. _No__no,__ I__'__ll__ be __good! __Don__'__t __leave __me! __I__'__ll __count! _Ivan took in a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. "_One,_" He whispered, and the voices went quiet. "_Two__… __three__… __f__…__four__…_" Ah, sleep was coming. His breathing was becoming regular, and he felt himself slipping down that familiar tunnel.

_Don't forget! Don't forget! Oh please don't forget!_

_.  
_

* * *

.

Toris had gotten in to work that day feeling quite overwhelmed. Raivis had refused to look at him when he apologized about the smoke, though he had told Toris again and again that it was alright. Eduard had tried to apologize to Toris about yelling at him, but Toris was already going to be late for work. Walking into the institution with all of that on his mind, he would only find more heaped upon his shoulders. Arthur had brought him up to date, not even scolding the Lithuanian for being late. Sitting him down in the break room, he'd handed the intern a cup of tea.

"Yao's with Ivan right now, and I thought that best, so I figured I would let you in on today's events." Arthur took a sip of his tea, but Toris only held the paper cup in his cold hands, letting the warmth seep into them. His heart was racing no matter how he tried to make it calm, to just relax and listen. It wasn't as if he could do anything when he wasn't here, yet still he felt he should have been. "Yao and I approached Ivan this morning with the option of ECT. He… took that badly." Arthur's thick brows were furrowed, and Toris frowned a little in concern. Ivan had many different reactions for when he took something badly, and they ranged from inflicting damage on nearby objects and or people to breaking down and crying. Before Toris could ask, Arthur continued. "He became quite panicked. He began to stammer about _forgetting__… _He begged us not to. Of course we wouldn't have with him saying no!"

"Then, that's it?" Toris asked. He didn't know what would be worse. Ivan staying as he was and going through the worst of his depression, or going through the trauma of something that was possibly a very powerful trigger.

"Oh no, that's not it." Arthur shook his head, taking another sip of tea. "Do you need sugar?" He asked. Toris startled slightly, glancing down to his cup.

"O-oh, no. Thank you." Lifting the cup, he sipped at the strong tea. It was nothing like the instant kind that he had gotten used to. Licking his lips, Toris implored Arthur to continue with a small motion of his hand.

"Well, we told the man how much happier he would be. Told him it would make him feel better, that he wouldn't have to be miserable anymore. It would make him safe again…" A heavy sigh. "Yao offered to let him go straight back to his room instead of kept in the medical ward for observation. It's a worry of Ivan's to be somewhere he doesn't recognize when he comes to, you see. Still he resisted, until Yao brought up the forms we have from Ivan's elder sister Ekaterina." This time when Arthur took a sip Toris followed suit, not wanting him to pause for his sake again. "When he was transferred here there was a consent form included, directing that ECT was an acceptable treatment and that she knew the risks. She was his legal guardian in Russia, but her authority is debatable here…"

"I'm familiar with something like that, only that it was with minors… Ivan was at the start of his institutionalization, wasn't he? How old were those…"

"Calm down," Arthur waved his hand, though he didn't seem irritated at the questioning. "You're bright, I'll give you that, but you're a bit impatient." Arthur said with a slight grin, sipping his tea again. "The papers are useless as far as we're concerned. Ivan is old enough and of sound mind as far as his treatment is concerned. He can make his own choices. But the mention of Ekaterina made him quiet. I stepped in then, reminding him how much his sister cared for him. That she wanted him better at any cost. After a while of giving us the silent treatment, he said he would sign. We gave him the papers, and he signed them."

"Then he'll be undergoing… _that _soon?"

"Oh, he already has." Toris nearly dropped the cup he held.

"_What_?"

"Well we didn't see any reason to waste time. There was a bit of a complication at the beginning…"

"I thought I was supposed to be… in on this!" Toris stressed without raising his voice. Arthur only kept his small frown.

"You _are,_Toris, now calm down and let me finish. You can't be present for every treatment, he needs you most after." To this Toris averted his eyes, his hands falling into his lap to fidget a little. "That's more like it. Now, it was about an hour ago. He's just barely woken up, he's sore and a bit groggy, and he won't talk to anyone. He answered with nods or shakes of his head to Yao's questions, and then he curled up in his bed. He's missed lunch, so he needs to eat. We thought you'd like to bring it to him."

"Could I bring him some of this tea?" Toris asked suddenly, and Arthur paused. He couldn't help it, and he gave a small smile.

"You like it?"

"It's wonderful. I've bought a few blends ever since I got here to the UK, but this is the best I've had yet. And of course lately all I can afford is instant…"

"It's my own blend. You're welcome to take him some if you think it will help." Arthur looked quite proud of himself, and Toris gave a small smile as he lifted the cup to his lips again. As if to prove his point he drank it down, trying to make it calm _his _nerves as well.

.

* * *

.

Ivan didn't stir when the he heard the click of his door opening, pulling the blanket tighter across his chest. Lying as he was, curled up and face to the wall, his back was facing the door. Quiet footsteps padded across the tile floor, and the smell of food reached his nose just as the clack of a tray being set down reached his ears. Still he didn't stir, wishing whoever it was away. But the voice that reached his ears, soft and concerned, was not one he wanted gone. "Ivan," Before the sentence could even be spoken he was sitting up. Turning around quickly, his wide violet eyes fell on the orderly.

"_Toris._" He nearly exclaimed, with a tone usually reserved for a close friend that you hadn't seen in ages who had shown up somewhere unexpected. "Toris." He said again, reaching out with his hand. Toris took it in both of his own before it reached him, holding it firmly between them.

"What's the matter Ivan?" Toris inquired, rubbing the back of that hand. "They told me you weren't feeling well. You look pretty well to m…"

"It hurts." Ivan countered, his expression indeed looking quite pained suddenly. His left hand reached out to take a hold of Toris' wrist, his right moving to join it and tug the orderly towards him. Toris made an effort not to fall, turning to the side so that he was sitting on the bed instead. This done, Ivan was quick to lie down and claim Toris' lap for his head, arms around Toris' waist. For once Toris didn't protest, though his face did become quite flushed. "My jaw hurts; my whole body… It _aches_ and _throbs_! My head is spinning and I got sick when I woke up…" Slender fingers found their way through Ivan's hair, nails brushing his scalp and forcing a soft sigh of gratitude from Ivan's lips.

"Arthur told me. I'm sorry I wasn't here, I wanted to be. They didn't tell me they'd do it _today._" Toris explained, afraid that Ivan would be upset with him over that. But Ivan shook his head, getting a little shift from Toris as well—his head _was _in the Lithuanian's lap at the moment.

"It's alright. They only let Yao in anyway; he tells them what I need… He calmed me down." At that he squeezed Toris a little tighter, but the orderly still didn't complain. "…I had a dream."

"Good or bad?" Toris inquired.

"_Bad._" Ivan nearly whispered. "I dreamed I forgot who you were. I saw you in my dream, you still worked here, and some part of me _knew _that I recognized you… But I couldn't remember why or from where. I was… I was _alone_ again. I forgot how good I felt when I see you… How it felt to have someone lay beside me as I fell asleep, I forgot what your kiss felt like." He swallowed. "You always looked so sad, but I couldn't understand why."

"It was only a dream, Ivan." Toris tried to reassure the troubled Russian, but Ivan shook his head again, provoking another little wiggle. Ivan might have done it more to tease him if he wasn't so in need to make Toris understand him.

"It felt so _real._I felt as if I was screaming inside my head to _remember,_remember that I _felt_ something again!" Ivan felt his eyes watering, and he closed them tightly. "_Please__ don__'__t__ let__ me__ forget,__ Toris!__ Don__'__t __let__ me__ forget __you!_" He pleaded. Toris' expression was quite concerned, nails brushing over Ivan's scalp in an attempt to soothe him more.

"Is that what you think will happen?" It was a nasty side effect that was still being debated. Many reported memory loss after ECT sessions. They could be anywhere from hours to days, weeks—months before those sessions! But there was no actual evidence to support that ECT was the cause, and some suspected there was another reason, like the very depression that had been the cause of the needed treatments. Had Ivan intentionally blocked out his memories of the fire, and of his time in the Russian institution, or had it really been the ECT he had undergone? Ivan was nodding. "But… would it really be that bad? If I could help you without personal feelings…" Toris led off when Ivan looked up quickly, his expression offended.

"Would that help me or you?" He asked, a little guarded. Toris frowned, upset that he had seemed to hurt Ivan inadvertently.

"I-I meant for you…"

"Could you help _yourself_ if I forgot you? Do you want me to forget you?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then don't say such stupid things." Ivan grumbled, laying his head back down, face-first into that lap. "I'd _never _let Toris forget me… I'd hold you down and kiss you until you remembered me." Toris smiled a little then.

"I'm sure you would, but I'd have quite a lot of trouble doing that to you wouldn't I?" Finally Ivan gave a small chuckle, and Toris felt his chest lighten a little. They both fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments; the only sound that of their quiet, even breaths. Softly, Ivan spoke again.

"If… I did forget you. Would you be sad? No… maybe you wouldn't be so sad all the time."

"I'm not sad all the time." Toris said with a small frown, glancing down to the Russian in his lap. Ivan gave a huff of breath.

"Yes you are. Every time I get something wrong, you get that face. I saw it every day when I was in… that white room. You get that look again. It reminds me of my older sister's look when I did something wrong, and got myself in trouble. 'Why did you do it? Couldn't you have just behaved? Why do you have to make me so sad? If you could just be good…'" Toris tugged on Ivan's earlobe.

"Alright, sometimes I _am_ sad. But it's not your fault. I've got a lot of things to worry about you know. Not just you, as special as you are." Toris was smiling. Ivan turned onto his back, letting one arm hang off the side of the bed. When he saw that smile he smiled back.

"I'm a very selfish man, Toris. If you continue to give me your all, I'm going to eat you up you know." Ivan warned, but Toris' smile didn't falter. In fact, he gave a small huff of laughter. Ivan's smile only grew. "I'm serious! I don't know if you've heard this, but I'm not all there." He lifted his hand to tap at his temple. "I've got a hole in me that destroys people. Orderlies and interns with hope. I frighten them away; change their mind about _helping_ people."

"Ivan, you're not all that powerful." Toris chided. "If they gave up on everyone because of one difficult patient then they weren't cut out for this job."

"Is _that_ what you're worried about? I'm the most difficult one here; did you choose me because of that?" Ivan kept his smile when Toris laughed again. It was quiet, almost sad, just like the smile they shared right now.

"I seem to remember things differently than you, Ivan. What I remember is that the most difficult man on Level One chose _me._When I said no, when I said I couldn't, I shouldn't," Toris' hand drifted to Ivan's cheek now, brushing it with the back of his knuckles. "And I seem to remember him fighting to do as I asked. You behaved yourself to the best of your ability Ivan. All that matters to me is that you continue to _try._"

"And if I don't?" That stroking hand stilled on Ivan's face, and Ivan reached up to grasp it before it could be pulled away. He pressed it to his cheek, holding it there. Toris' smile began to falter. "If I choose to stay here, in the safety of the institution so that I can't hurt anyone else. If I move up to Level Two and I live out my days in a cushy padded sell." Toris glanced away, swallowing hard.

"Please don't ask me such things."

"But what if I do? You could have it much easier without me; have fun with the others and give honest smiles and not sad ones. You wouldn't have to hurt, looking at them. Good boys who behave, who are _trying._You could have help for yourself." Toris looked down again, frowning now. His face was a little red, and his voice held a touch of irritation, though he hid it well.

"You don't get to do that, Ivan. You can't just come in to my life like that and invade my most personal space, worm your way into my heart and discover my secrets only to leave me alone!" Ivan's heart felt so full that he could _feel _it thumping against his ribcage. His smile was different now, truly happy. So, Toris _did_ care for him. Of course he would care about him anyway, Toris was just like that. But this was more than as a patient and a caretaker. But Ivan's eyes were stinging, gathering tears which wouldn't fall. His voice was but a whisper when he spoke.

"_What __if __I __don__'__t __have __a __choice_?" Ivan watched Toris' expression change subtly, seeming confused for a moment before it faded into one of understanding.

"This is still about you forgetting me." Toris stated, giving a look which said he knew he'd walked right into that one. "Alright then, I won't let you forget me. I won't allow you to forget what it feels like for someone to… to love you. Not as a difficult patient but as a troubled man who still has a chance. I'll never give up on you. Just because you might forget me _here,_" Toris gently freed his hand to touch Ivan's forehead, "It doesn't mean you can forget me _here._" He moved his hand to Ivan's chest, above his heart. It moved again, fingertips brushing Ivan's lips. "Hold you down and kiss you… right?" Ivan smiled again, kissing those fingers.

"_Da, __moy __lyubimy._"

The two stayed like that for a while longer, neither of them speaking a word this time. It would be impossible to say that they understood one another perfectly, but it was close enough. Toris had defended himself against everyone lately, but he hadn't expected to have to do it for Ivan too. It was only fair he supposed, as Ivan might really be the one that stood to lose the most if he should lose Toris one way or the other. As for Ivan, his fear was still very real. He didn't want to press it any further, but it was a feeling that wouldn't just go away with a simple reassurance. His dream had been nothing but a nightmare. Alone, isolated, and trapped within his own pain again. He knew he was bad for Toris in many ways, but he swore to himself he could be good.

If he could just get better, he could show him! His short-lived plan to get the Lithuanian committed was nothing but a silly fantasy. They couldn't be happy here together, because Ivan wasn't happy as it was. But as Ivan saw it, Toris was close to the edge. He prayed that he was wrong now, but he had no way of knowing for sure. He didn't know the questions to ask, which ones would help and which would make Toris retreat back into himself. Toris had been so strong for the both of them, and Ivan now wanted to take over that burden. He would complete his ECT treatments, and he would have to trust Toris to keep his promise. If he forgot him… He would make Ivan remember. It was the last thing he would ever ask of his too-kind lover. Ivan could take it from there!

Finally Ivan would rise to eat the tray of food that Toris had brought him, though he complained of his jaw being sore again. He'd complimented the tea only to try and dump it out when he learned that Arthur had made it. Toris had scolded him for that one, but it only made him smile. He relayed Yao's statement that Ivan could stay in his room if he liked, but Ivan only laughed. He said he wanted to be out amongst the others, even if they were noisy. Toris understood the feeling, as Ivan had been in solitude previously, any human interaction would be reassuring. Neither of the two were fooling their selves that Ivan was doing better already though.

Six treatments over two weeks, and as far as Ivan was convinced, he could lose his memory with any one of them. He hadn't weighed the options before that first one, which is why he had panicked. He only thought of feeling _better,_but not the cost. He _had _to trust Toris to make him remember if he forgot. He was doing this for Toris. Doing it to get better! His nightmares had been so terrible lately; all he wanted to do was forget _those_! He knew the truth, and Yao was catching on. The nightmares… many of them were memories. He was told the cold, black-haired man in his dreams existed, no matter how much he had wanted to pretend he didn't.

.

* * *

.

A peaceful day, that's what it was.

Alfred was his nosy self, but he'd been stopped by Toris or Matthew each time he pushed Ivan too far. Ivan's irritation was low for once, but they didn't want his mood to go any lower if he was pestered too much. Francis kept his distance and Lovino wisely remained quiet. Gilbert seemed to be doing a little better at least, and he shared a few words with Ivan across the table as they did some art. Well, Ivan painted and Gilbert drew circles with colored pencils, but at least the German wasn't repeating words anymore. One good day wasn't going to make a 'difference' right away, maybe even several good days wouldn't. This wasn't about being 'happy' or 'sad', this ran deeper.

But it helped. It kept most dark thoughts at bay, and that was all that Ivan could ask for right now. But something else was happening to Ivan right now, and because it was something so new, he didn't know how to handle it. He hated change, and yet he knew he'd been the one to bring it on himself. It had been easy in the beginning. Tease this new and interesting orderly, have a little fun. Toris was attractive and fun to play with. It had only taken days to get attached, to want more. But he couldn't _have _more, not while he was here. By some miracle, Toris had liked him back. The Lithuanian had returned his feelings against all odds, but now…? Ivan would be the first to call himself a lost cause. He was content to stay in here as long as his sisters were taken care of. But to see someone like Toris, someone who Ivan related to, to see him be so strong... And lately, to see those cracks.

Those were Ivan's fault, weren't they? He had challenged everything that Toris thought he could handle, added so much stress that the poor younger man was stretched too thin. _Help__ me __help __you._ That seemed to be what Toris was asking of Ivan, and Ivan was _trying_! If not for Toris, he would never take the chance of losing more of his memory. Or maybe he wouldn't care if he did. If he couldn't remember he would hurt less—but then, he'd forget everything good too. What mattered and what didn't, Ivan didn't know. He had to choose something, and so he chose Toris.

Ivan had so many things he'd planned to say when night came, and Toris would come to 'tuck him in' and give him his medicine. But by the time that the evening came around and Ivan lay in bed waiting for the sweet Lithuanian, no words were coming to mind. They had left him unstrapped in an effort to lessen his stress level, so he was looking forward to lying with Toris. Wasn't that… enough? All he wanted to do was be close to Toris right now, even if only for a moment. By the time that Toris came in, Ivan was so eager that he nearly choked on his pill, coughing for a moment before he swallowed down the rest of the water. Ushering Toris into bed with him, he guided the orderly to lay with his back to Ivan's chest. Nuzzling into that thick brown hair, Ivan breathed in deep, getting a little chuckle from Toris when it tickled.

Ivan could feel his heart beating steadily against the warm back pressed into his chest. One arm over Toris' waist and the other under the orderly's head, fingers interlocked, he wanted to stay like this forever. If he was out of this institution, he could have this every night. But, Ivan had been selfish before. It was a mistake he didn't want to make again, not after seeing a scratch in Toris' strong surface. He wanted Toris to be happy too, but he didn't know how to make the Lithuanian feel the same as he did. After only a few moments of silence like this, even though it felt like an hour, Ivan spoke up softly into Toris' ear.

"I decided that I want to be like you, eventually."

"Like me? How do you mean?" Toris asked with a small smile.

"I want to learn to look after others…" Ivan untangled their fingers to run his fingertips lightly over the back of Toris' hand. "For my sisters, I want to make up for what I've done. Katya might be older than I am, but I'm the brother! They deserve to be looked after, like you look after your brothers." Toris seemed to tense a little, but Ivan didn't know the reason. "You said before you'd never forget them, right? You look out for them like you do everyone… above yourself." Toris swallowed.

"N-not always." He nearly whispered.

"Mm? I can't imagine Toris being selfish. Things were harder for you weren't they? Coming to this country with your brothers. You could have left them—"

"N-no, I never could have done that."

"That's exactly what I mean, Toris." Ivan gave a little chuckle, closer to a giggle as usual. "It is not even an option to you. Me on the other hand, I was content to stay out of the way. I always thought it was better if my dear sisters forgot about their terrible brother. It was… neglectful of me. But after I talked with you, I decided I want my sisters to remember me again. I'll take care of them this time." For a moment Toris was quiet, reflecting on what Ivan said as he felt those fingertips tickling the back of his hand again and again.

"…It's not easy. Sometimes you'll fail, even when you try your hardest. You have to forget yourself, to give them everything…"

"What are you talking about, Toris?" Ivan murmured, stilling his hand so that it simply rest over Toris' again. "Weren't you the one who told me I have to get better? Not for you, but for me. I _do _have to get better. If I'm not better, I can't help my sisters. Are you really… forgetting yourself? That can't make your brothers happy! It doesn't make _me _happy! I don't want you to forget yourself for me, for _anyone_!" Ivan gave a small laugh. "You would be miserable and they would know it. _I _know… that you're not happy right now. Do you think I would like it if you made me happy without you being happy too? _Mm,_I can't stand the thought of that! I want us _both_ to be happy… So be happy for me. For your brothers. Don't be selfish like I am, and find yourself content to remain unhappy as not to be a burden."

Toris was breathing deeply, slowly, and Ivan knew that he was fighting back tears. Lifting his hand, he began to stroke Toris' hair, as Toris had done for him earlier that day. "I wrote a list," He changed the topic. "It says, in Russian so that the others can't snoop: You trust Toris. Toris is good. You like Toris. Remember Toris." He smiled in the dark, as if the one laying against him could see it. "Just in case I forget you, so that I don't hurt you when you hold me down and kiss me. Isn't that smart?" Now his precious orderly gave a small laugh, even if it was thick with sadness. He managed a nod, and Ivan smiled. "You see, you _do_ understand. Earlier when you asked if it would be better if I forgot you so that I didn't have to deal with you… You sounded just like me. But I _want _you to burden me. I want it _so__ much,_ Toris." Lips pressed just under Toris' ear for a kiss. "I bet your brothers want that burden too… After everything you've done for them. What would you say to me, if I said you didn't have to carry me anymore?"

"_I__ want __to._" Toris' voice was quiet, his throat tight. "I have to make you happy, so that I can be satisfied. I have to be happy so that you can be content…"

"Now you have it!" Ivan chirped, kissing Toris' neck again. Toris shivered.

"It's hard though, I'm already so used to it."

"It's not easy for me, either. Every day I want to run back to my room and curl up under my blankets. I _want _to be sad, I don't want to care… Let everything go on without me. Tell myself everyone will be happier if only I didn't try. If I try I only let them down, I cause them pain…" Ivan stopped when his hand was taken up by Toris', held tightly.

"Stop, stop." Toris scolded. "That's enough for one night, we're going in circles!" He was sniffing, but his voice was evening out again. "Whoever knew we would be switching places like this."

"Mm, does Toris want to hold me instead?" Ivan asked, his tone curious. It became mischievous even before the Lithuanian could reply. "Ah, maybe Toris has finally decided to stop waiting, and he wants to have me right now?"

"I-Ivan, th-that's not…!" Toris' voice was slightly panicked, and his body was tense. Ivan could feel the heat from his face with his own so close, and he chuckled. Lips brushed Toris' ear.

"_But __I__'__m__ ready __for __you__… __whenever __you __want __me. __However __you __want __me. __I __want __to __be __yours __as __much __as __I __want __you __to __be __mine_." He whispered, and he had to hold the orderly against himself by the waist, as Toris had started to wriggle his way to freedom. He let go suddenly, and Toris nearly fell from the bed. "I'm done!" He stated with a smile. Toris didn't leave; he only laid there with the sound of his slightly quickened breath penetrating the otherwise sudden silence of the dark room. "I don't care how much it hurts me, Toris. I want to love you. Even if you leave me, if you give up on me. Because… this is the best feeling I have ever had. Even if it only lasts the few moments each night you lay down with me."

"B-better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?" Toris repeated the well-known phrase, a little sardonically. Ivan gave a little _mm_ of confirmation. "…Me too." The safety Toris felt when laying with Ivan, the feel of that warm kiss that brought such peace, they outshined anything else. "I will try. You're trying so hard for yourself, it's the least I can do. I'll try to be happy, Ivan." He pressed back against the Russian, and Ivan held him close again.

"That's my Toris," He nuzzled down into Toris' neck again, letting that hair tickle at his nose.

.

* * *

.

Toris sat for a long while in the break room on the side of one of the beds. His gym bag was clutched tightly on his lap, his hair brushing the tops of his shoulders, the tie already tucked away in his pocket. He hadn't bothered to change into his casual clothing, he usually didn't. He could just go home and take a shower, and change there. He didn't need the extra clothing to wash along with everything. All he had to do was go home and...

_Go home._

Right now he couldn't even picture the place. His little apartment in a dingy building along with questionable neighbors. Oh sure, he liked most of them. He wasn't trying to be a pessimist! It was everything he needed in any case. Cheap, close enough for his brothers to get to school and for Toris to get to his school and the institution. For two years they had made it work. Toris had done odd jobs around the university; helping with the school paper by writing or taking pictures, helping in the library, and oh his favorite, replanting the gardens around the campus. He'd been _so_ busy. He'd thought he _was _happy! But that was all _before._

This morning he had felt a bit melancholy, but this was something else, something stronger. Making promises that he didn't know if he could keep, staying by the side of those going through more pain than you ever thought was possible, carrying both theirs and your own. For what? To do a good job? Is that really what they all needed? Did his brothers need him strong, or could they accept him as damaged and flawed? He knew that Ivan could, but Eduard and Raivis were still young… He'd protected them from everything, as much as he could! Ever since the beginning! He couldn't possibly stop now, and yet he just couldn't take anymore of this… _pretending._Toris looked up when the door opened, nearly startling. Antonio's brows furrowed when he spotted the Lithuanian. "I was just coming down to say goodnight to Elizaveta, and she said you hadn't come out. Are you feeling sick?" Toris swallowed.

"No. I'm sorry, I really should go." He spoke up, summoning a small smile. Antonio stepped inside, setting one hand on his hip. When neither of them spoke for a moment, the doctor sighed. Reaching up, he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Is there a reason you can't go home?" He pressed lightly. Toris winced, averting his eyes to the floor. He licked his lips, his voice quiet.

"Because I'm a selfish liar. Because I'm a coward, and I…"

"_Woah-woah-woah_!" Antonio's hands went up, and he glanced over his shoulder. Making sure no one was around, he closed the door and stepped over to the orderly. Sitting down on the bed beside him, his hand rose up to pat Toris' shoulder. "Come on now Toris, you know you're none of those things! Why don't you just tell big brother Tonio about it, hm?" He said with a wide smile. Toris glanced to the Spaniard, frowning a little. He didn't know how Antonio did it, but that smile was real. Still he hesitated.

"It's not something… you would understand."

"It goes further back, huh? Well, I'm off right now you know. This isn't a part of my job, and we're not just co-workers right? A buddy can listen." He moved his hand to Toris' left shoulder so that he could pull the Lithuanian against him. Toris was blushing, looking at the bag in his lap now.

"I can't… What should I even say? What if you think I'm too _damaged_ to work here?" To that Antonio gave a small laugh, but this time it was as sad as Toris thought it should be. When the doctor spoke, it was quieter this time.

"Do you think it's easy for us? Psychologists, psychiatrists, even the nurses and orderlies? _Day_ after _day_ we hear the most terrible things from our patients! Broken families, abuse, exploitation, abandonment…" Antonio closed his eyes for a moment and paused. Taking a slow breath, he opened them again and continued. "We compartmentalize, Toris. Put it hiiigh on a shelf. It doesn't just go away on that shelf, no matter how much we wish it would. But we have to stay strong."

"I-I know. I am_,_I mean I _can__…_" Toris tried to assure the older man, looking up with a slightly desperate expression. Antonio lifted his right hand and shook his finger.

"Ah-ah! Do you know _how _we stay strong?" He asked, one eyebrow rising. Toris hesitated this time, shaking his head. "We talk! Not about our patients, of course, that's not allowed. But we can say what's weighing on us, say what we feel like we should do. Sometimes what we feel we should do is wrong. I can't really go chase down someone's family and tell them what _despicable __cowards _they are for neglecting and then dropping off their misunderstood loved one and running away, now can I?" Antonio smiled again, and this time Toris felt a shudder race through him.

"N-No…" He shook his head a little.

"That's right! So, Toris, anything you tell me would be just between _us._Off the record, so to speak." This time when Antonio paused, he watched Toris' face with a hopeful expression. Toris didn't break that gaze again, and in his chest his heart was racing. He trusted Antonio; he'd liked him ever since he'd met him. That little bit of bitterness and anger was all he had needed to begin to understand. Was that why Antonio could be so… honestly happy? Because he got it out in other ways?

"…Alright. I'd like to talk to you, Antonio. But… not here."

"You've got Saturdays off, right? So do I! Why don't you stay over at my place tonight? No, no! Don't argue!" Antonio was standing up, crossing taking a hold of Toris' bag and lifting it up. "You can call your brothers and tell them everything is fine, you're staying with a friend from work. We can talk as long as you need, and tomorrow I'll take you home. Ah… hey, don't cry!" Antonio looked panicked for a moment. "Elizaveta will think I was mean to you! Do you know what she _does _to mean men?" Toris' eyes had been watering, but now he laughed. He laughed because the thought was funny. But mostly, he laughed for his own sense of relief. He reached up to wipe at the tears, but they just kept coming.

"S-sorry."

"Ah, geez." Antonio sighed, but he was smiling again. Reaching out, he ruffled Toris' hair. "You should have seen me my first time, in my first year. I was downright blubbering! Homesick and overwhelmed, angry at everything. Come on now, stand up. If we don't get out of here soon they'll keep us as free labor!" Toris nodded his head, standing and doing his best to compose himself as much as possible. He was good at shoving those panic attacks down at least, so it only took him a few moments. "We've got to work on _that_ too." Antonio stated. Resting his hand heavily on Toris' shoulder, he directed him towards the door. "And remember; tell Liz I wasn't being mean!"

"I can't even imagine such a thing." Toris admitted with a smile, taking his bag back from the older man. Maybe this really would make things better. He trusted Antonio, and that was more than he had anywhere else right now. If he continued on like this, he was going to break. He would give in to temptation and choose a path of self medication like his parents had, and there were so many methods to choose from! If he really cared about his brothers, about Ivan, he had to work on himself a little. Otherwise, his shoulders couldn't stay strong enough for the burdens he willing took on.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N

Happy new years! I hope this year is even better than the last!

This chapter marks the 2 year anniversary that I have been writing this fic. ;; I promise to finish it soon!

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Two weeks, six treatments.

After each of them, Toris made sure to be present when Ivan woke up. They had to shift his schedule a little, but that was alright with him. With Matthew and Agatha helping out in this ward, they had enough to fill in. Ivan's soreness after a treatment would vary, and his recovery would bounce back and forth. They wanted to do as little treatments as possible, so they had gone for only six instead of twelve. Because it was disputed whether depression its self or ECT was at fault for the reported memory loss, it was better safe than sorry at the end of things. Everyone was in agreement with that.

Toris had felt needed all his life. When he was young his brothers had needed him, as long as he could remember. It was natural to defend the younger ones wasn't it? That was what he had always believed. But then he'd brought it up to Antonio, and he'd learned something a little different. It wasn't that he was the oldest, but instead it was simply a part of him. Of course he pointed out Toris' habit of putting others above himself, especially in this job. And some of those, like Ivan, Francis, and Gilbert, were older than he was. It wasn't age, or even status. Toris repeated this to Ivan while they sat together in his room, Toris' fingers running through Ivan's ash blond hair absently. After all, they had that in common.

It was easy to forget yourself when you were protecting someone. That became your goal in life, the thing you lived for. Keeping yourself alive and kicking was all you had to do, and it was _easy. _But when you did that, sometimes you forgot what effect you had on those you were sheltering. Even the day that Toris had agreed to take care of himself for Ivan, he'd broken down at the thought of what had happened that morning. When he had taken a 'selfish' moment for himself, lighting that cigarette, he had inadvertently frightened his youngest brother. That kind of thing was bound to happen when you gave your _all _in to a simple goal.

It was simple; _no one _could take so much stress onto themselves without an outlet. Eventually, sooner or later, you broke. You stopped feeling, just for a moment, and you made a mistake you wouldn't have if you weren't so pent up inside. Antonio had explained in great length about it. He was very patient whenever Toris didn't understand, repeating it in different ways until he was satisfied that Toris understood just what he meant. Toris' first impressions of the Spanish doctor had been exactly right, that was what Toris had come to find.

Toris had used his talks with Antonio to pass on advice to Ivan as well. Ivan was also an older sibling (though he was a younger as well, further proving Antonio's topic of age), and he had also placed himself between a harmful situation and his younger siblings. He took each 'failure' personally, and he had eventually become estranged from his older sister. Speaking of which, they had yet to really contact her directly… Toris was also a bit upset about that, from the oldest sibling point of view, but he understood that he didn't know their entire situation. Ivan's participation in the conversations always depended on his moods.

Those moods had been shifting lately, and everyone was hopeful. Ivan was less lethargic, and he was more active around the institution. He'd gone to the classes for three days now, and helped out with laundry. But today, there was something else… That _irritation. _Toris had been snapped at twice so far, but it wasn't bad. It was a sore day, Ivan's body aching from the electric currents. His joints, his jaw, he said his head was throbbing. But whenever Toris fell quiet, Ivan accused him of getting bored with him. There was no winning! With another sigh, Toris rubbed a lock of that short blond hair between his thumb and forefinger.

"You're just misunderstanding me…" Toris was saying, nearly pleading by now.

"I'm only listening to what you're saying, Toris." Ivan's voice was critical, his expression much the same as he started up at the orderly from that pillow of a lap that he was resting on.

"Yes, I know, but you're taking things to literal."

"Toris is saying what to do if I get outside, but right now I am inside. How can I use those things right _now_?"

"Well, you…" Toris reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. When he himself was irritated, his nose would itch terribly. "You lean on me, right? Or Yao? You have to let it out some way, and…"

"I know all this! I said I would come to you." Ivan only cut him off.

"But, you should think of how to do it outside as well. Don't you think?"

"Can you think of something else to help me now? To help me get out?" Ivan pressed. Toris paused for a moment, glancing away.

"I… Well, not right now. But I was…"

"Toris probably shouldn't repeat what he hears so easily. You might end up hurting someone, isn't that right? Someone damaged, like me, or one of the others…" Ivan paused this time, as Toris' expression had suddenly become quite hurt. The brunette's breath hitched, and he rubbed at his nose again, keeping his gaze anywhere but on Ivan's face. Ivan swallowed, feeling his guilt well up a bit.

"You're right, of course. I really should be more careful, I wasn't thinking." Toris said eventually, and oh how his voice had changed in tone. It matched his expression, quite disappointed in himself. Ivan rolled over to his elbows, lifting himself to his hands and knees on the bed.

"I didn't mean to make you sad…" Ivan seemed to lament, frowning a little. He'd only wanted to see if Toris could think of something else to help him! It didn't work when he actually upset his dear orderly!

"No, it's alright." The corners of Toris' lips pulled up, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He glanced back to Ivan, but those eyes were defeated for now. Toris was backing down, ready to run from the situation. "I should go." He said, as if on cue. Ivan's hands grabbed those shoulders, startling the orderly a little.

"No, wait! I'm still hurting!"

"I can't sit here forever Ivan. I'll come back in a bit if you don't come out soon, alright?" Toris stated, and Ivan sat back on his heels as his hands were gently brushed from those shoulders. He didn't want to let Toris go, but he didn't know how to make him feel better right now. Ivan felt his irritation overcoming his guilt again, and he knew he'd make another mistake if Toris stayed.

"I know you were trying to help." Ivan offered, watching Toris stand from the bed.

"That's good." There was honesty in that reply at least, and Toris bent a little to kiss Ivan's forehead. Ivan closed his eyes as briefly as those soft lips brushed his warm skin, as gentle and refreshing as a butterfly landing and then fluttering off again. He'd come to think of Toris that way again lately. Those fragile wings he had took care to handle! He couldn't hold him too tight or they would tear. "I'm going to go and help with laundry… You come down when you feel like you can, alright? Or lunch, or whenever you can. I'll come and see you either way." Ivan only nodded, laying himself back down onto the bed and covering his mouth and nose with his scarf before he pulled the blankets back over himself.

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"Toris!" Alfred exclaimed loudly as soon as the orderly reached the bottom of the stairs. He grasped the blanket he was folding tightly, as if he wanted to drop it and rush over to the shorter man. Toris smiled and approached the patient instead, nodding in greeting.

"How are you, Alfred?"

"Mattie says it's rude, but I think it isn't fair that because of Ivan you're not around as much!" The American exclaimed, drawing a hiss of his name from Matthew from across the room. Naturally Al ignored it, blue eyes staring expectantly at Toris. Toris was frowning a little, trying to decide how best to respond to that without outright scolding the blond. If he spoke too curtly Alfred would shut out the negative attention. Finally he licked his lips, taking in a small breath.

"It's not because of Ivan." He answered, picking up a pillowcase from the table. "It's what he's going through. Imagine… taking a medicine to make you better, but it makes you very sick. You would want someone to take care of you, wouldn't you?"

"Of course! But he has other people, _I _want Toris." Alfred muttered, flipping his sheet a bit without folding it at all. Toris gave a small huff of breath to hide the unsurprised chuckle that threatened to be voiced. He didn't want to _encourage _him!

"That's very kind of you to say. If you're ever sick, I'll take care of you."

"You promise?" Alfred asked, smiling all too wide.

"Don't look as if you _want _to be sick!" Toris did chuckle now, and Alfred only laughed.

"Just remember that you promised!" Al said triumphantly, as if he had won something. Toris was a little worried about Al's intentions, and he made a mental note to warn the other orderlies about watching him extra closely for a bit. He already had a habit of getting rid of medication for other patients, the last thing they needed was for him to take those pills for himself just to get sick for attention.

"Hey hey hey, _move over_!" A frustrated voice shouted, drawing more than a few glances. Gilbert stood waving his hands frantically at Lovino, who was standing next to him.

"Did I invade your goddamn personal space again?" Lovino muttered, stepping over regardless.

"That spot's for _Fritz, arschloch_!" Alfred was naturally drawn over towards the quarreling duo, and Toris couldn't help but smile a little. So maybe fighting wasn't the best thing to smile over, but the fact that Gilbert had been improving this past week was a good enough reason! First he had begun to speak clearly again, and then it seemed that 'Fritz' had returned to him. Someone came up to Toris' other side, and he glanced over to see that it was Agatha. Her blond hair was in its loose bun as usual, always prompting Toris to wonder how it stayed up at all. Those circles under her blue-green eyes were there to stay as well it seemed, as they hadn't gone away ever since he'd been introduced to her a few weeks ago. But since that meeting they had come to know each other a little more.

First impressions weren't often the best; his thoughts about Antonio had been somewhat of an anomaly. Agatha had made a point of seeking Toris out just to clear her name, knowing exactly how she had come off. Since then he had come to understand that she wasn't nearly as cold as she seemed. In fact she was quite sensitive. She had grown up in a time and area where a woman in her field wasn't taken very seriously, and so she hid her insecurity behind cold hard facts. She spoke about methods she didn't have experience with because she _knew _them, and she didn't want to seem as if she was ignorant about them.

"Did you think about what we talked about?" She asked him presently. Toris gave a helpless sigh, folding the pillowcase he had been holding. She was also relentless.

"I did."

"And?" She pressed, as he knew she would.

"I think that in some areas you're right. Today, I think I messed up a little. The only problem is that I'm not sure if what I did was actually a mistake or not… And how it applies to any other patient." Toris picked up a sheet this time, and Agatha seemed to contemplate quietly for a moment. The silence was welcome, comfortable. With the older woman, Toris felt a bit like everything he said was really being thought over. More than just a debate or a conversation, Agatha considered every option she was given, provided she wasn't feeling belittled or challenged.

"Perhaps you're thinking of it like a mathematical equation?" She asked quietly. "I could be wrong, but it sounds to me like you're looking for one answer to fit every patient. A formula that you can use with different numbers each time." Toris' hands stilled, glancing over to the woman. His face felt a little hot, and he gave the smallest of nods.

"It sounds silly when I think of it that way. There's no way that could work."

"Some patients can actually take something like directly facing their problems and some of them take a lot of cognitive searching."

"But is it the same method? I mean, when we teach cognitively, we teach someone to think positively. But sometimes we have to go back and find _why _a behavior or thought pattern occurs before we can do that." Toris frowned. He felt like he was only confusing himself even more right now. Agatha was quiet for a moment too, and he eagerly waited for an answer to all of his problems. At the moment. Finally she gave him a small smile—rare, for her.

"Can I tell you a secret?" She asked quietly, and Toris nodded eagerly, leaning in a little. "I don't know." Toris looked to her as if she was joking, but he broke into a smile when he realized that she wasn't. "Don't tell anyone now!" She teased, and he gave a little laugh as he nodded.

"I promise. I guess I should know better. The answer really depends on personal views I guess, and I should figure that out for myself. If I know one thing, it's that _one _method alone will not work for everything."

"If you let every cutting comment get to you enough to doubt yourself, you'll never make it, Toris."

"O-of course I know. It just made me wonder, that's all." Had he been wrong to talk about what Ivan could do to stay healthy once he was outside? In the institution he had several outlets and he knew it. He only used them half the time, but he knew it. So really it was the same method wasn't it? Toris had a worried suspicion that it was simply the talk of getting out that had upset Ivan. For all his apparent desire to get better lately, the Russian was still quite volatile with the topic. It was understandable. Eight years with a set schedule, following rules and being kept 'safe', even from yourself… 'Freedom' would be alarming to anyone! What Ivan needed was a transition.

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Ivan did come out of his room, but he didn't join any classes. He was allowed a pencil and paper as he sat in the common room, as long as he had supervision. His smile had returned, and so had his amusement with the bickering of the others—as long as it didn't become so loud that he had to cover his ears again. That happened once before dinner, and he'd shouted so loudly at Lovino and Alfred that he'd been asked to go to his room and cool off.

Yao, who had been taking down detailed notes, commented that it was very likely that the treatment had brought on a manic episode for Ivan. That was a whole new set of things to watch for, and irritation was one of them. Yao had asked for Ivan to be given a bit more Risperidone to help with that much, and all they could do was wait and see if Ivan's depression had really gone, or if it was only being masked by another symptom at the moment. For Toris, waiting was the hardest part.

Ivan declined to come out for dinner, and so Toris brought his food and medication to him. He sat and waited for the Russian to eat, sitting on chair belonging to the table by the little writing desk. Neither of them spoke, and the longer that the silence stretched on the thicker that the air became. Toris had begun to rub at his nose now and then, and Ivan was giving little huffs of breath. Toris was relieved when Ivan finished his meal, moving over to gather it and take it back to the cart where it could be taken back to the kitchen. He saw that Ivan had yet to take his Risperidone, and so he set the tray back down. "Take that, please." He said politely. Ivan picked up the little orangeish colored pill, lifting it to his lips and placing it on his tongue. Violet eyes met Toris' directly as he closed his mouth, swallowing. "Let me see."

"_Shto_?" Ivan's eyes narrowed, his expression a little offended. Toris seemed surprised that Ivan had hesitated.

"Under your tongue… And your cheeks. I have to make sure you took it, Ivan." Toris reminded. Ivan reached up to cover his mouth with his scarf instead. "Ivan…"

"Toris doesn't trust me anymore?"

"Of course I do, but you know I have to check. You've fooled me before. I just want to make sure we're doing everything we can to make you feel better, you know that."

"I do _not _know that. Do you think that I would intentionally sabotage myself?" Ivan's voice was a little dangerous, and Toris began to feel worry creeping up on him.

"Ivan," He spoke calmly, his tone soothing. "I know you're feeling irritated right now. Please don't misunderstand me again—"

"Again!" Ivan exclaimed, standing up suddenly. Toris stepped back, his heart leaping into his throat. "So you're saying earlier was my fault?" The Russian accused, and Toris swallowed, hands up defensively.

"Let's count, shall we Ivan?" He nearly pleaded. Could it really be this easy? All the progress they'd made, would Ivan actually become violent with him? But Ivan hadn't made any move forward, so Toris held his ground.

"Do you think I want to be sad, Toris? That I _want _to feel as if I can't get out of bed, like I want to hurt myself? Don't you understand why I'm going through this?" Ivan had to mean the ECT. Toris felt a pang of guilt pass through him, but he couldn't let that cloud his judgment.

"Of course I don't, and of course I know! Come on Ivan; _one, two…_"

"Do you know what it feels like, Toris? Have you ever wondered? Ever considered it? Just to see what it's like for me? For _her_? Would I go through this for nothing?" Ivan's words came a bit quicker, his voice a little higher with adrenaline. Toris' heart skipped an entire beat or two, and he felt his throat constrict. His hands closed, and he pulled them a little closer to himself.

"_H…her_?" Toris nearly choked. Ivan nodded, smiling now that he had gotten a reaction.

"Yes, Toris! _Her_! She's depressed too, isn't she? But she doesn't have _you, _I do! I wonder why that is?"

"_Sh-…_" Toris felt his hands begin to shake a little, and he wasn't sure if it was anger or panic. For all Ivan's excitement, he wasn't being loud enough to draw attention through his closed door. "_No—who told…_!"

"Oh yes! They do that in Lithuania too right? They did in Russia. For depression, electricity is cheaper than medication!"

"Ivan, I need you to stop this right now!" Toris raised his voice a bit, but it didn't come out nearly as firm as he had anticipated. His face was hot, and he felt his heart racing. But Ivan was raising his hands to his own temples, tapping them in time with his sing-song voice.

"_Shock, shock, shock_!" Ivan didn't react quick enough to dodge the fist that was coming for him. It was Toris who caught himself just in time, but he still felt his knuckles connect. Ivan nearly fell backwards when he realized he'd been struck—even if just barely. He brought his hand up to his mouth, but there was no cut on his lip, it only throbbed a little. Ivan wondered if that was a little too far to push his precious Toris.

"It's not my fault!" Toris exclaimed. It was no question he wasn't talking about the strike.

"Who said it was?" Ivan's smile had become sad, and he reached out to take a hold of Toris' wrists. The Lithuanian attempted to free them at once, pulling back, but Ivan held on tight.

"Don't say it like you blame me! Everything was her choice!"

"What did she do to you, Toris? What did she do to make you leave her there?" Ivan pulled those wrists towards himself, until Toris had no choice but to come close enough for him to wrap his arms around the orderly's shoulders. This time Toris didn't fight, he only clenched his fists at his side the second his wrists had been released. He closed his eyes, letting his head rest on that wide chest. His heavy breath pressed at the cotton of Ivan's shirt, making Toris feel as if he was breathing under a blanket.

"Nothing." Toris' voice was quiet now, and it didn't waver. "She did _nothing._"

"I understand." Ivan said, and he held Toris close against him. Toris shook his head, reaching up to grasp the sides of Ivan's shirt.

"How can you?"

"_Shh, shh…_" Ivan said instead of an answer. His right hand came up to remove Toris' hair tie, and those long fingers were running through his hair in no time. Toris didn't _want _to be comforted! He really didn't, and yet, he didn't resist. His eyes were dry; he was beyond tears by now. This ran too deeply for something as simple and obvious as tears. Ivan continued to soothe the stubbornly silent orderly until he had begun to breathe normally.

"Who told you?" Toris asked quietly, once his hands had ceased to shake.

"No one, I overheard it… They thought I was asleep." Ivan explained, brushing Toris' cheek with the back of his knuckles. Toris nodded, fully believing this. He couldn't imagine any of the doctors who knew about his mother saying anything to Ivan. "…It hurts more, doesn't it?" Ivan asked softly, and Toris glanced up at last. "Nothing at all, rather than _something._" Toris reached up to take the hand that was resting on his cheek, holding it with his own.

"It does." He agreed strongly, and though his heart still felt heavy it didn't feel quite so painful anymore. Such a short burst of negative emotion had left behind a shadow, and yet he almost felt a little better for it. So, Ivan knew? Not just about Toris' mother, but he knew how painful _nothing _could be. "It… removed her from the rest of us. What was I supposed to do?" Ivan shook his head a little.

"_Nyet, nyet, nyet. _Toris did what he had to, I'm sure of it! Otherwise you wouldn't be my Toris." To that Toris gave a small snort, but his lips had given the slightest tilt of a smile. "You know _I'll _never do _nothing_, right? No matter how hopeless something is, even if I get in trouble myself, I would do it for you."

"Do _what _exactly?" Toris asked, one eyebrow rising. Still he sighed, giving a little shake of his head as he stepped back. Ivan's other hand was taken in his free one, until they were holding hands in front of them. "Don't do that, please. Don't get into trouble for me, even if I can't imagine how something like that would possibly apply here. Ah, unless by doing _something _you mean getting yourself better so that I don't lose my internship." Ivan's surprised expression said that Toris had won that round of verbal banter. The Russian gave a quiet, delighted laugh, holding those hands tightly in his own.

"I do mean it though." Ivan added just as quietly.

"I know. I know you're here for me, Ivan… But you can only do so much while you're inside this place. Stick to our promise… Work on yourself, and I'll work on me." He let go of those hands then, moving to gather up the dinner plate again.

"T-Toris." Ivan called out as the orderly headed for the door. When he turned around, Ivan fidgeted a little. "Are you mad at me?" Toris frowned a little, shaking his head.

"Of course not, why would you think that?"

"I… I've upset you twice today. I can't help it; I've been so irritated… You were only trying to help, and then you were doing your job but I still hurt you." Ivan was tense when Toris came close again, but he calmed a little when he noticed that the orderly was smiling.

"Ivan… That wasn't _you. _I mean, it _was _you, but it was only a part of you. I know you're not really thinking when you say things in a mood like that, so I do my best not to take it personally. I love many other sides of you, too many to let a few arguments turn me away from the good ones." He stood on his toes then, and Ivan bent to kiss the shorter man. It was a soft, brief kiss, but even the simple brush of warm lips was enough to soothe the both of them. Toris smiled as he pulled back. "Now, you actually look tired for once. Lie down and go to sleep, Ivan. I have to go home now, so I can't stay."

"It's alright, I have Toris' pillow!" Ivan proclaimed as he moved over to climb onto his bed. Toris has arranged it with Yao and okayed it with Arthur so that he could bring Ivan one of his pillows to sleep with. With the odd hours Toris was now keeping, he rarely stayed overnight anymore. That was alright with him! His sleep schedule was much more normal, and this semester of classes was mostly electives. Ivan hugged that pillow now, burying his face into it with a smile.

"_Spokoynoy nochi', _Ivan."

"_Spokoynoy nochi', moy lyubov._" Ivan murmured in response.

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Friday nights were now spent at Antonio's apartment, where they spent hours talking. He had learned a lot about the Spaniard from looking at his dwelling alone! The apartment was quite comfortable in price, though his furniture wasn't all that expensive. His most expensive things were kitchen equipment, and a nice big TV. There were several shelves devoted to his big family. Brothers, sisters, their spouses, nieces and nephews, and of course his parents. Toris was always more than a little jealous at the sight of those numerous photos.

Right now it was just past midnight, and Antonio had just finished his story about how his older brother had nearly lost his leg due to being trampled at the running of the bulls event held in Spain. They always started off these little sessions with a cold beer and a story from Antonio to get Toris comfortable with talking. This was their third talk together, and Toris was feeling a little nervous. Halfway in to his second beer, he was finally ready to begin.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, he told Antonio about Ivan having mentioned his mother. The doctor was also troubled by the fact that a patient knew something so personal about an employee of the institution. It was hazardous, or it could be if it got out to the others. But Toris insisted that he trusted Ivan, even if there was a small warning voice in the back of his head. Ivan had said it himself; he didn't always think when he was in one of his moods. But there was something that stuck with Antonio, and so he chose to start there. "You two seemed to understand one another, but I think I'm having a little trouble following… Could you explain this 'nothing' to me?"

"Oh," Toris glanced to the glass bottle in his hand, peeling a bit of the label with his nail. "I guess… you wouldn't be as familiar with it. You know, when you get in trouble with your parents or even a teacher… And your siblings, or other students and friends, it's what they decide to do. Let's go with family… Say you get told you don't get dinner that night. Do your siblings ignore you, or do they sneak you food. That sort of thing."

"I see. Ignoring you is doing 'nothing' then?" Antonio took a long sip of his own beer, though he was still on his first. Toris' expression looked a little troubled for a moment.

"Not… not necessarily. The short answer is yes, but if it was only once that's not a big deal. When it happens again and again, and whoever is in trouble is being ignored, it… It breaks down. Instead of being together against a common 'enemy', you're alone. And then you're more apt to ignore whoever else is in trouble for fear of getting yourself in trouble again, because why bother? No one helps you, so there's no loyalty to be built."

"Did you ever do 'nothing'?"

"Never. I couldn't even imagine it. I was so young when they brought Eduard home; I went right to sticking with him. And because I did that, he stuck with me. And then Raivis, too. He was so scared, and he was quiet, but he never turned his back on us." Toris smiled a bit, lifting the bottle to his lips to take another long drink. Lowering it again, he licked his lips once more. "Going without food was a big one. If he couldn't whip us into behaving to his standards, he'd try and break us that way. But he couldn't punish us all at the same time, so it always failed. We went hungry for one another, sharing what little we had between us. It never even crossed our minds to say 'No, don't give me food. Keep it for yourself.' Because we knew how silly that was." He gave a sad chuckle. "I shouldn't say never crossed our minds, I said that a lot actually. But I gave to them, so they gave to me."

"And your mother, she did 'nothing'?" Antonio's voice was calm and soft, almost coaxing. Toris always felt _safe _because of that tone. The Spanish psychiatrist had become an older brother to him in many ways, and the trust he had from that was comforting.

"Mother…" Toris twirled his beer within the bottle, what little was left of the liquid. "Half the time she was off in her own little world. She would lie on the couch and watch TV, or in bed with the door closed and the radio on. By the time I was ten I was cooking. I burned myself so many times," He chuckled, holding up his left hand to look at it a bit. "You can't really see them now, but growing up my hands were never without cuts or burns. With mother…" His expression dimmed again. "I often thought that she put herself on the same level as my brothers and I. Like she had no authority, no more responsibility than we did. There was my father, and then there was 'us'. When my father would come home she was usually all smiles. And if he wasn't happy then neither was she, and she would do anything to make him happy. If his target that night was me or one of my brothers, she would gladly stand aside." Toris' tone was a little bitter.

"She would nod her head and agree with him, even when he talked bad about her. He'd blame her for not disciplining us when he wasn't home, or for this or that. 'Yes honey, you're right. I'm a bad mother, but it's not my fault! They're just…'" Toris paused, his throat tight. He ripped a piece of the label off of the beer bottle. "She'd say, 'They're just bad kids.'" He shook his head. "She'd do anything he asked most days. If he told us to stand on a stool all day, morning to night with no food or drink, she'd scold us if we sat down and ignore any request for said forbidden sustenance."

"At the risk of sounding cliché, Toris… How did that make you feel?"

"Angry. Hurt, sad, forgotten… But mostly I was angry. Angry with her, angry with my father. There were rare days that she was nice, though. When he went a few days without a fit of rage or an unexplained night away from home, mother would be kind. She would cook, take us to the store with her, and buy us each candy. When I was fifteen she was still buying me candy." He shrugged. "She had no idea what else to buy. She didn't know what we liked, how we were doing at school, even when she cooked it was always whatever she felt like making. She would make pierogi with mushrooms and Raivis wouldn't want to eat them. That would send good ol' dad into a rant about wasting food and not having money. I know Raivis was just being a finicky eater and all, but that could have been avoided completely. When I made them I always stuffed a few with something else like cheese for him, and father would never know the difference."

"Let me stop you for just a moment here." Antonio held up a hand, and Toris finally glanced to the man. The Spaniard had a calm expression to match his tone of voice, but his eyes were unmistakably sad. "From what I'm hearing, your mother didn't take up any of her familial responsibility. You grew up quite fast because of this, and you had to become a parental figure for your brothers, too. Do you believe that some of your resentment comes from this, and not just that she did 'nothing' to help you against your father?" Toris shook his head a little.

"I never really resented her for leaving me to care for myself and my brothers. It was simply something I had to do, I guess. I took care of her too, after all. She needed me. I cooked, I brought her food to her when she wouldn't leave the couch or the bedroom. When I knew father was coming home from a trip, and she hadn't taken care of herself, I would pester her until she took a shower, and then I'd brush her hair and even put a little make up on her. I knew she would be happy if he looked glad to see her. And I knew if she looked like she hadn't taken care of herself in a week, which she hadn't, that he would only hit her and spend the night saying what a terrible mother and a disgrace of a woman she was." Toris' lips curved into a slight smile, although a sad one. He finished off his beer, setting it aside on the coffee table. "She was… sick. She needed help. But I can't," His breath hitched, and he shook his head. "Part of me can't forgive her for ignoring us. For choosing _him _over us. I never expected any kindness from _him, _but from _her…_"

"Toris, you can…"

"She would _stand there. _Just _stand there _while he hit us! She would even blame us, or tell him something _else _we'd done! Anything to try and make him like her! She never raised a hand to me or my brothers, but she hurt us all the same." Toris lay back on the couch, hands clasped over his stomach lazily. He stared up at the ceiling as Antonio stood up, walking over to pick up the empty bottle of beer. He carried it into the kitchen, talking as he did.

"I understand what you mean now. This is why people shouldn't make assumptions about others without knowing the whole story, don't you think? Do you want another beer?"

"Yes, please. And do you mean how everyone keeps asking about my reasons for leaving her there? That they think I'm _guilty, _that I wouldn't leave someone harmful because of it?"

"I mean that exactly." Antonio confirmed as he came back, a second beer for himself and a third for Toris. The Lithuanian took it when it was offered out, opening it with his shirt. Dropping the cap onto the table, he sat up again to drink it. "You told us all at that table the day you became an intern." Tonio stated as he sat down in his chair across the coffee table from Toris. "You hadn't forgiven yourself for leaving her. That _does _mean you feel guilty, right? Why do you think that is?" There was a bit of silence as Toris thought about how to answer that. It took some sorting of feelings to really find an acceptable one, a true answer.

"Because I was worried that this was doing 'nothing'. I chose my brothers and myself over her. Left her in the care of the state and… and gave up. I wasn't trying to _punish _her, but that's what it feels like. A part of me wants her to be sad. It wants her to miss us, miss _me, _and be hurt like I was." Toris reached up to run his fingers through his hair. "And it makes me a terrible person."

"No Toris, it doesn't. Those are perfectly natural thoughts. I'm not going to tell you 'You made the right choice.', because only you can decide that for yourself. But you didn't make a bad choice either. You're not responsible for her, you never were. I believe that you did exceptionally, growing up with such heavy responsibilities. We are all born with no promises in this world. Some of us have it very tough, and some of us have silver spoons. You make the best of the situation that you're in. You could have left your brothers behind, but you didn't. I believe that you did that for them, not for you. You wanted them to be happy; you didn't bring them along so that you wouldn't feel guilty. You're very humble, Toris. Naturally, honestly humble. You're so humble that you think doing something that only benefits _you_ is selfish!" Antonio laughed, and Toris had to give a small grunt of a chuckle as well. He couldn't deny it.

"I'm not a terrible person?"

"Not for the reasons you think you are."

"For other reasons?" Toris glanced over to his friend with a smile.

"None that I've encountered so far!" Antonio chuckled. Toris took a sip of his beer, feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted off of his chest. Many more talks with Antonio, and he was going to begin floating from all of the burdens being lifted. "One thing, though?"

"Hm?" Toris questioned as he took another sip.

"How long has it been since you contacted your mother?"

"Ah, I've tried to call her. She doesn't answer the phone in her room. Last time was about five months ago. My friend Feliks went to see her in December, but she hadn't changed." He shook his head. "I told myself there's nothing I can do if she won't talk to me. I don't have the money to go and see her. Maybe she wants me to feel guilty as much as I want her to? Maybe she's trying to hurt me for giving up."

"You'll never know unless you get a hold of her. I urge you to keep trying." Antonio finally opened his own beer, and it gave a hiss as he twisted off the cap. Toris didn't want to do any such thing, but he knew that was just a defensive mechanism. So he nodded, taking another drink.

"I will." He said at length. And he really did mean it.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N

So sorry for the long pause! I finally got myself back on track and I think I've ironed out the problems I was having with the plot direction of two years ago to now!

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The events of the weeks following the end of Ivan's ECT sessions had proven just what Yao had suspected; Ivan had swung straight from depression and into a full manic state. Shadows had appeared under those violet eyes due to lack of sleep, though you would never know he was tired judging from the energy that he seemed to have. The Russian still sat to the side during most activities, but he was more talkative. He humored Gilbert when speaking to him, going along with the idea that Fritz was a whole separate person. Though Ivan was playing around, there was no harm done if Gilbert didn't know that. Unfortunately his irritation had also risen, leading up to near confrontations with the more troublesome of his fellow patients; namely Alfred and Lovino.

The delusions came and went, but they were not as bad as they used to be, so Toris was told by Yao. Nightmares weren't a problem when Ivan wasn't sleeping, but the more tired that he became the less patience the Russian had all throughout the day. Everyone was on eggshells, and though Ivan noticed, he didn't seem to mind. There was another little breakthrough that came alongside Ivan's negative swings, and that was his willingness to try and calm himself down. It took a few days to make any difference, but now he would begin to count without being prompted to. Instead of 'Shut up!' there would be a closing of those tired eyes, and a softer '_One._' Even Alfred had stopped goading the Russian once he started counting, once he had been scolded often enough.

Everyone feared the descent of that mania. They hoped, prayed, and worked tirelessly to level Ivan's moods out. Reaching a plateau would mean success, a mixture of medicine and therapy that had brought about a change in Ivan that three previous years of treatment at this institution hadn't been able to achieve. At the end of the month of February, that goal was reached. Ivan's mania faded away, leaving him tired but confident. That confidence was encouraged Ivan the most, and Yao and Toris finally had a milestone to mark. The rapid cycle had been broken, and no one wanted to think about how long it would be before the next swing. As exciting that this 'victory' was, they knew it was just another waiting game.

Not even modern medicine could stop the next shift from occurring. Bringing Ivan back from the brink this last time was nearly the extent of what the institution could do for the troubled Russian. All that was left was teaching him how recognize the warning signs and _handle _the swings. There was no _cure _for manic-depressive disorder, and especially not of the first type. Like any chronic illness, you could treat the symptoms but not remove the disease. That was why _confidence _was important. If Ivan thought he could pull out of his mania or his depression, he would have a much better chance of weathering those swings.

As for Toris, the Lithuanian had his hands full. Juggling classes, job, internship, and his own private therapy all at once seemed to be taking its toll on the young man. Often he spent his breaks doing homework, and any other free time was usually spent with either Yao or Antonio. His own birthday had been the last true day off, and Ivan still hadn't forgiven him for spending it away from the institution. But Toris' brothers had insisted on it, and so had Feliks. The Pole had been quietly patient with Toris ever since his surprise confession months ago. In fact he said he was dating someone, though he wouldn't say _who. _He still showed up unannounced to bring breakfast or dinner, which ever time of the day that it was. It was those visits that had been the final straw for Toris, in relation to the conversation with Antonio that he had attempted to put on a shelf in the back of his mind and forget about it.

Agné, Toris' mother. He'd promised Antonio that he would reach out to her again, to call or even visit her. It had started with his birthday, and Toris had been under the influence of one too many beers when he'd mentioned it to Feliks. His faithful friend hadn't let go of it since! Every chance he got, he would remind Toris of the good times they _did _have. '_Remember, like, do you remember Totes, when your dad was out of town for the week? He like, went to Latvia or something. And we were being totally loud, playing music and dancing around. We'd gotten into your dad's beer, what were we, like fourteen? Ahaha, and your mom came out! We thought we were in trouble, and she called my mom, but we all stayed up drinking and dancing! Real responsible parents, right_?'

Toris had spent so long jumping between brewing the resentment he held or making up excuses and defending his mother than he no longer knew which feelings were true. He didn't want to hate her, and he didn't know if he could love her. Feeling _nothing _wasn't an option, and with the gentle (or not so gentle from Feliks) prodding from the two men he probably trusted most in the world right now, the young Lithuanian had finally made up his mind.

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On the afternoon of March 15th, Toris walked in to the Kirkland institution for his next long shift. He was still putting things into his locker when Yao entered the break room, his expression looking a bit irritated. The Asian doctor was quite expressive when you got to know him, and for Toris it meant he was easier to read. Before he could smile however, Yao frowned a little. "No smile at me, you not be happy." He muttered, and it was Toris' turn to give a small frown. "I not mean to tell him, but,"

"D-Doctor Wong!" Toris' eyes widened, feeling a chill race up along his spine. Yao held up his hands, patting them downwards.

"Hush you, I not finish! He say he want hold celebrate for you tomorrow because you gone for you birthday. What I suppose to say?" Yao explained with a small shrug of his shoulders. Toris took in a deep breath, tying back his hair as he frowned at the shorter man.

"What _did _you say?"

"I say truth, I say you be out of town." Yao crossed his arms, as if daring Toris to argue with his judgment call. Toris snapped the hair band, dropping his hands to his sides with a huff of irritation.

"You know I wanted to tell him. How did he take it?" Toris question with concern, turning around to close his locker, but not before grabbing a few bags of tea and shoving them into his pocket. Looks like he would need them sooner rather than later.

"How you think? He sulk. He say you bring him pills and he go in his room." Yao's voice showed his usual low patience for Ivan's more childish behavior. Toris only nodded, heading for the break room's coffee pot. As usual it was filled only with hot water, fit for pouring into a cup and adding tea. Grabbing two cups, he set the bags into them. Pouring the water in, he spoke to the doctor again.

"Tell them to have his medicine ready, I'll take it to him. I just need a moment." Toris requested, and thankfully Yao didn't have anything to add. The doctor only uncrossed his arms with a relieved sigh, turning and heading for the door. Once he was gone, Toris set the pot down and rested his hands on the counter in front of him. It wasn't supposed to go like this! He was supposed to be the one to tell Ivan. He'd had everything planned out, and now he'd been thrown for a loop. The script he'd painstakingly written for himself was all for nothing. He'd lost sleep over it! Taking another deep breath, he lifted those cups.

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Ivan fought the rising panic with each and every breath he took, using every method that he had learned to stop himself from losing it. His scarf was being rung between his hands, and it was the only thing that kept them from shaking. '_I trust Toris. Toris will come back. I love Toris, Toris loves me!_' No matter how fast he tried to run through the chant in his head, fear snuck between those words to send sharp pains through his chest. The click of his door opening was enough to make his whole body jump, bedsprings creaking slightly as he turned to face it, back pressed against the head of his bed. The sight of the Lithuanian was a brief relief, though he pulled his scarf up over his nose to hide it.

Toris carried a tray in his hands, balancing the three cups and few pills on it. Closing the door with his foot, the brunette approached the bed with a guilty smile, setting the tray on the bedside table. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat down, back to the wall, hands coming to wring in his lap, not unlike Ivan had been doing with his scarf a moment ago. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the silence thicken until the Russian could no longer take it. "How long have you known? Where are you going? How long are you going? Why didn't you tell me? Did I do something?" At the onslaught of questions, Toris' back straightened, and he turned around quickly, bending one knee so that he could face the head of the bed.

"N-no, it's not you at all! Why would you think that?" Toris frowned, reaching out to rest his hand on Ivan's knee. The Russian didn't move away or brush it off, but he didn't relax either. "I've only known for sure these past few days. I was going to tell you today—I was! I had no idea you… you had something planned. I would have changed my flight if I had known." Ivan felt another flash of panic, breath catching in his throat.

"…_Flight_?" He nearly whispered. Yao had only said he'd be out of town! Toris' expression became even guiltier.

"I'll only be gone for a week. I'll be back, you _know _I will. One week, that's all." Toris' assurance did nothing for Ivan's anxiety, and the Russian's frown deepened.

"Where are you going, Toris?" His voice was polite, contrary to his expression. Toris swallowed.

"Li… Lithuania." Toris had hesitated, and little did he know how much worse that made it! Ivan lowered his scarf, revealing his panicked expression. Toris didn't recoil, not even when Ivan reached out to grab his shoulders.

"You can't!" Ivan begged. He saw Toris wince, but he couldn't even think about loosening his grip right now. The orderly reached up to rest his hand over one of Ivan's, giving it a light squeeze.

"I have to, Ivan." Toris' green eyes were a little red around the edges, Ivan noticed. Unfortunately it only strengthened his fears. "I'll be—"

"You said it wasn't me! You said I didn't do anything!" A little more conscious of not bruising his dear brunette again, Ivan let his fingers slip from Toris' shoulders, though he kept a hold of his shirt.

"_Shh, shh,_" Toris' other hand rose, placing two fingers to Ivan's lips as he tried to shush him. Ivan's right hand released Toris' shirt in favor of seizing that slender wrist, pressing his lips to its palm instead of those long fingers. "It's _not_ because of you, Ivan. Why would you think that? Ivan, that hurts." Toris warned calmly, and Ivan's grip on the orderly's wrist loosened.

"S-sorry! Sorry Toris." Ivan lifted that fragile wrist, the one he had once twisted and sprained, covering it with kisses. Toris' lips curved into a small smile, though Ivan saw sadness in it.

"Ivan… what did you mean? Why shouldn't I go to Lithuania?"

"_Because…_" Ivan's heart was racing, eyes stinging, and his face was flushed. It was _hard _not to hold Toris as tightly as he wanted! A month ago he might have done it. Wrapped his arms around the little Lithuanian and squeezed until he heard the other cry out in protest. Ivan _knew _it wouldn't make Toris stay with him, but it always seemed like it would at the time. He was doing _everything _right, so why was Toris leaving him? Even if he only said it would be a week, how could he know for sure? "_Because that woman is there. The one that did nothing._" Ivan whispered. He watched Toris' eyes widen for a moment, as if he had forgotten that Ivan knew.

Of course he knew! He'd heard from Yao, and he'd talked to Toris about it. But Toris said he chose _Ivan_! So why was he going to the place where that woman lived? Ivan felt the cold pit in his stomach growing, overwhelmed with fear and nausea. Toris swallowed hard, grimacing slightly, but he never broke eye contact. They had both gotten better at that one; not hiding their feelings from one another. Toris' left hand joined his right, loosening Ivan's fingers enough to slip it free. He took the Russian's hand in both of his own instead, lifting it to those soft, full lips to kiss the back of his knuckles. "Ivan," Toris said quietly, "I'm coming back. I'm not choosing her over you, I _promise. _You _know _I… I could never leave you."

"Then don't! Stay here, stay with me. If you leave, I'll…!" Ivan huffed, curling that gently cradled hand into a fist. No matter how he puffed his chest and sat up straight now, he knew that Toris wouldn't fold. He had _finally _been able to make good on his promise not to hurt the Lithuanian any more, on accident or not! Ivan had done _everything _right, hadn't he? But if Toris left, if he saw his mother, how could he come back? How could Toris choose a stranger over his own flesh and blood? Ivan was getting better, but Toris' mother could only be worse! All those years without such a caring and generous son, how could she have even have survived? He saw a brief flash of fear in those jaded eyes, and Toris held his hand tighter. Unlike Ivan, Toris could never manage to grip too tightly. Ivan _wished _his precious orderly could bruise him.

"Don't threaten me with your health! That isn't fair, and you know it!" Toris begged, and Ivan felt his own lips bend into a smile before he could stop it. He knew it was wrong to control the emotions of others, but how else could he make them understand? They had to know how their actions would affect him!

"I'll get depressed. I know I will! What if that happens? What if you're not here and I don't know what to do?" Ivan continued to pose such troubling questions, getting excited by Toris' distress. The Russian had made so many improvements in this past month and a half. This habit was, unfortunately, not one of the areas that he had made headway in. But as he watched those green eyes begin to water, Ivan felt the knot of guilt tug at his heart. His smile faded away, and the sudden urge to protect the brunette began to slip back into the forefront.

"_Ivan, I have to._" Toris nearly whispered, his tone practically _begging _Ivan to understand.

"No you don't! She did nothing!"

"It's not just…!" Toris shook his head, and Ivan frowned.

"Not just…?"

"I have to see her, Ivan. I _have _to go. But I _will _be back." Toris swallowed again, letting go of Ivan's hand to push himself up to his knees. Ivan's heart skipped a beat as Toris edged closer to him, not moving an inch as he leaned in close. The orderly's lips were soft and warm, causing Ivan's eyes to close as he pressed in to that gentle kiss. It broke all too soon, and Ivan gave a small whimper when it did. Toris' hands came to rest on those broad shoulders, and he stayed close. "_I wish you could come with me._" This little confession felt like ice water had been thrown onto Ivan's chest.

"Y-you do?"

"Oh, _yes. _I don't want to do it alone." Toris' expression left no room for doubt in Ivan's mind. He was telling the truth! He knew he shouldn't smile again, but they were too close for him to cover it with his scarf again.

"Toris… _needs _me?" Ivan asked tentatively. At the small nod from Toris, the Russian smiled even more. "Then wait! I'll be better soon, and then Toris and I can…" His smile fell when Toris shook his head a little, bangs swaying.

"N-no Ivan, it can't wait. Someday, someday you'll meet her. But I can't wait. And even if I don't want to, I _have _to do this alone." Before Ivan could protest, he was kissed again. He pressed in to it, brought his hands to Toris' hips and slipped his tongue between those silken lips. Toris allowed it, parting his lips and bringing his own tongue to slide against the Russian's. Despite Ivan's past intentions, there was nothing _sexual _about it, only pure intimacy. It was the only way that Ivan knew how to get his strong feelings across to the Lithuanian without frightening him off. Every time Toris allowed himself to be kissed, Ivan felt a little more confident. And this time, Toris had kissed _him_! Ivan wished that he didn't have to breathe, because then Toris could never leave him. But as they parted for much needed air, Toris rested his forehead against Ivan's own, eyes closed, eyelashes wet. Ivan tilted his head up to kiss them, tasting the salt of those unshed tears.

"_Please promise me you'll be alright._" Toris whispered, fingers curling into Ivan's shoulders. It was ironic; the things that would get Ivan in trouble were the very things the Russian craved from Toris. Ivan gave a little sound of dismay.

"No, _you _promise _me_!" He mumbled, and this time Toris gave a soft laugh, opening those beautiful eyes.

"I promise I'll be just fine. I'll be back before you know it. I'll… I'll ask Yao if I can call you. Every day."

"_Pozhaluysta_!" Ivan exclaimed, smiling as Toris lifted his hands to cup his hot cheeks. Ivan frowned at that, never liking to have his face touched like that—to where he could feel his cheeks squish. But he brought his hands up over Toris', as if he could keep him close.

"Your turn." Toris reminded, and Ivan pouted.

"I promise. I will behave myself for Toris, if Toris stays safe. And comes back to me!" Ivan added in quickly, just in case Toris forgot. Toris lifted his head to kiss Ivan's forehead then, and his lips felt cool against that heated surface.

"You see? Everything will be fine."

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Toris could barely get a moment alone after that. Ivan had made sure that the entire ward knew that Toris was going to be gone for the next week. Antonio had only laughed, joking that now Toris _had _to come back, because everyone knew that he had promised to. It might have been amusing at first, but the Lithuanian was quickly overwhelmed by how much his absence seemed to affect the other patients. Alfred did nothing but complain about the other orderlies, including his brother Matthew, and telling Toris that he was the only one on his side. Gilbert worried that someone new would come, someone who was rude to Fritz and made fun of him. Even Lovino stayed back from an activity to find Toris, telling him that he was officially the only orderly that didn't piss him off, and so he had to come back. As for Francis, the Frenchman dramatically lamented on how he would miss Toris' pretty face while he was gone. Toris assured each and every one of them that he would return as soon as he could.

As touching as it all was, Toris' chest was aching. _So, _he'd thought to himself, _this is what it feels like to be needed. _Though his brothers needed him to provide for them, that was much different! When it came to Eduard and Raivis, Toris had begun to feel as if they were branching out. They had their own schoolwork and social lives now. Even the shiest of the brothers, Raivis, had made friends here in London! Other than coordinating meals, getting household necessities, and Toris paying rent and bills, they didn't need_ him_. Slowly, they had become more like roommates than a family. But that was normal, wasn't it? His brother's weren't kids anymore, they were teenagers. And if they were still damaged, Toris felt as if he would be the last one to know.

It was different with the patients here at the institution. He was more than a friend, but less than a therapist to them. Somewhere in-between, he had gained a level of trust that was rare here. Ivan had said it in the beginning; there was the patients and then the 'others', and there would always be something to withhold from the 'others'. Because the patients were all crazy, and everything they said was too. It could be analyzed and broken down so far that the original meaning was lost, all due to which side of the Safe Room they sat on. In three months time, Toris had managed to find himself deeply rooted at the institution.

Though Ivan and the others seemed to be reassured by his promises, Toris was still anxious about leaving. It would be his first time back in Lithuania ever since moving. As much as he hated to admit it, he could never think of Lithuania as _home. _It was cliché, but as they said, home was where the heart lay. He had no reason for his heart to lie in that country, the country of his forefathers. He was sure his father would have throttled him for saying such a thing, being a man as proud of his heritage as Janis had been! But that was all _behind _him now! Toris had left his past just as he had left his homeland. If only it really was that easy.

If it was, he wouldn't be dreading this so much. He knew better than anyone that removing yourself from a place filled with bad memories was only part of the battle. The scars left inside yourself were just as damaging as the ones on the walls. As it was, Toris was close to tearing a scab from the wounds he'd been naïve enough to think would heal on their own. His mother had yet to return his calls, but he had worked out something with her caretakers when it came to visiting her. If she refused to see him, then he could say he tried. As Antonio told him, the bravest thing that he could do was try. What was the worst that she could do to him now? _Nothing_? She'd already done that all of his life! This was to be his last try. After this, he wouldn't have anything to berate himself over. No guilt, no 'what if I only', no doubts.

Toris had given Eduard and Raivis the option to come along, but of course they had refused. They had the blessing of not being related to her by blood, though Toris assured them that it didn't matter. Still, there was nothing he could do to change their minds. Just because Toris needed to face this trial, it didn't mean that it was the same for his brothers. He hadn't been lying either, he didn't want to do this alone. If he was rejected by his mother, it might just be the final straw. It was easy to think that he could just walk away from that, but he had already done that when he moved to England.

Currently Toris sat in the break room, holding a warm cup of tea in his hands. Even though he'd come in here to steal a moment alone while everyone else was at dinner, he couldn't escape his own thoughts. Just as he rose the cup to drink, the door opened. Seeing that it was Arthur, Toris lowered the cup again, swallowing nothing but air. "D-Doctor Kirkland…" He said with a small nod of his head. Arthur offered a nod of his own, stepping in and closing the door behind him. As he approached the table to take a seat, Toris straightened his shoulders a bit.

"Easy now, you look as if I'm about to scold you for something." Arthur remarked as he pulled out a chair, dropping a manila folder onto the table as he sat down.

"I can't help it. You know this makes me uncomfortable. Just the thought of lying…"

"You're not _lying, _lad, you're just not telling him everything." Arthur corrected, turning the folder around and pushing it across the table. Toris' eyes fell to the folder, and he gave a slight frown.

"We have different definitions of what a lie is."

"Fair enough." Arthur's fingertips lifted from that folder, and Toris swallowed again. "You have bigger things to worry about though, don't you? This is just a little drop off and pick up."

"You really don't think she'll come through?" Toris let go of his cup with one hand, reaching out to place it onto the folder.

"She hasn't thus far. And as we simply can't afford to send another doctor right now, so you're our best choice." Arthur sighed, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"You mean I'm your _only _choice." Toris corrected, pulling that folder back towards himself.

"Best _and _only." Arthur countered, and judging by his expression, that wasn't just flattery. "We're tired them pulling us around by our short n' curlies. This time, we're going to get answers. Whether she shows or not, you have to get those documents. You _can _do this, can't you?" Toris felt his throat tighten, but he nodded.

"I have no choice. This is for Ivan. Yao's already apologized for not being able to go, and Antonio's already warned me about this being too much for me. But it just works, doesn't it? If they won't come here, I'll come to them. I just… want to tell him the truth."

"In time." Arthur's chair gave a slight screech as he stood up, reaching out to pat Toris' shoulder firmly. "You know this is for the best. To keep him as calm as possible, he must think you are only going to see your mother." There was a moment of silence between them, Toris averting his eyes and Arthur waiting for a response. Just before the Englishman spoke up again, Toris nodded once.

"I get it. I won't tell him."

"Good lad." Arthur patted Toris on the shoulder again, repeating himself quietly as he turned and headed out of the break room.

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It was easy for Ivan to convince Toris to visit him that evening before he left. He'd had many excuses ready, but he hadn't even needed them! The Lithuanian came in to his room moments after Ivan had lain down, carrying the Russian's medicine. Ivan had taken it as quickly as possible before practically pulling Toris into the bed with him. Usually Toris lay out beside him, pressed against his side while Ivan lay on his back. But tonight they lay face to face, one of Ivan's arms around the smaller man's waist, while the other stretched out under the pillow for Toris to rest his head on. The Lithuanian's arms were pulled in close to his own chest, left hand closed, right hand resting on Ivan's chest over his heart. Ivan watched the slow rise and fall of Toris' shoulders, felt his breath tickle him now and then, his own heart beating steadily against that warm hand. "Are you scared?" Ivan asked quietly, noting his dear Toris' downcast eyes. Toris hesitated, swallowing before he answered just as quietly.

"I don't want you to lose faith in me."

"Silly Toris, why would I do that? If Toris is scared, he needs me. If he needs me, I would be terrible to lose faith in him! You hold me when I'm scared, so I wanted to know." Ivan explained, lifting his hand from Toris' waist to brush his fingers through his hair. Toris turned into the light touch, taking in a slow breath. It shuddered as he exhaled, eyes closed and brows drawn together.

"_Yes. I'm scared. I'm very scared_." He whispered finally.

"I'll hold you then. _Shhh, shhh, you'll be okay_." Ivan coaxed, his voice gentle. "No matter what happens, you'll come home to me. I'll miss you, but I will wait for you. Because you need me to, _da_?"

"_Yes_." Toris admitted, and he lifted those green eyes to meet Ivan's gaze. Ivan felt his heart begin to race again, and his face felt hot. He had seen Toris cry before. Ivan had witnessed the heartache, the pain, and the fear in his precious Toris' expression. He'd touched the orderly's scars, kissed them, held him while he let out some of that pent up emotion. Toris really needed to be more honest with himself. Ivan was always told that he was _too _honest with his emotions, but the man in front of him was proof of something just the opposite. Ivan didn't feel shame for his outbursts, be they of love, anger, or sadness. Toris felt too _much _shame.

"I'll be right here." Ivan said firmly, though he was a little breathless. Toris smiled, and he curled his fingers into Ivan's shirt.

"I know. I have your heart." The orderly murmured. Ivan gave a small laugh, and it was filled with joy. How long had it been since he had told Toris he would die without his love? That Toris had his heart already, so he _had _to love him.

"And... I have yours, _da_? You're leaving it here with me, so that it can't be hurt when you go to that place, with her." Words didn't always come easily to Ivan. Searching for the right ones, trying to decide which would be upsetting or not, and which would make someone happy. Like telling someone what they wanted to hear, but being _honest _as well. It seemed this time he had gotten it right, as Toris was moving in for a kiss. It was soft, and it was chaste, but it lasted long enough for them both to have to breathe through their noses, which parted that kiss with a small chuckle from them both. One last soft kiss, and Ivan allowed his eyes to close.

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Toris used to be told that he was 'lucky' to have been raised in Vilnius. Of course it was his father that used to say that, so as usual it was taken with a grain of salt. His mother would only echo those words, and nod her head as Janis spoke about all of the hardships of growing up in small towns. Emilija, Toris' grandmother, had always laughed. She would tell him and his brothers about how difficult it was, and how hard she had to work to keep food on the table. Her husband off fighting in the resistance, she was on her own with her only son. Of course she always kept the details of her infidelity from her grandchildren, but they heard enough about it from their father.

Toris _wished _that his own mother could have had an affair. Maybe then she would have been happy. Perhaps she could have even felt loved. Even though he knew it wasn't as simple as that, he had always dreamt of it. But Agné had been wholly devoted to Janis; her own children next to nothing when set beside him. Allowing her husband to hurt her and cheat on her was one thing, but to stand aside when he turned that behavior towards her children, _their _children; unforgivable. For years, Toris had been so wrapped up in school that he had never given it much more thought.

But memories were flooding back; as if setting foot on the very soil of his homeland opened up the floodgate. That night was still so _vivid _in his mind. The police pounding at their door, their solemn expressions and monotone voices. His mother's wail of anguish and subsequent breakdown upon hearing the 'bad' news. Toris could remember so clearly the lack of emotion that he'd felt; how dry his eyes had been. The feel of his mother's silky brown hair as he had stroked it soothingly, speaking to her as if she was a frightened animal. The look of _pity _on the officer's faces when he asked them if they would be so kind as to tell him who to contact in order to arrange the funeral services.

Not a week after the funeral, his mother had been committed to the institution. His father's insurance had been substantial enough to pay her medical bills until the state would take over, as well as enough to buy Toris and his brothers their freedom. Toris didn't have _time _to feel anything, he'd told himself. It wasn't like he was completely broken; like he had become _incapable _of experiencing emotion! It was just that it was all so _fast, _and if he had stopped for even a moment, he might have drowned in the undercurrent of it all. And now, here he was to pick up the pieces of himself that he had left behind, see if they still fit.

The hotel Toris had been booked to stay in was nicer than he had expected. It was old, but it was clean, and it gave him some much-needed time alone to collect himself. Tomorrow he was to go to his mother's institution to attempt his first visit ever since the day that he had left her there, a little over two years ago now. Whatever happened, he would handle it. He had to. There were people back in England that were counting on him! And then there was the matter of the documents packed away in his bags. He had that to deal with too, after his trial unresolved guilt.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N

I intended to make one chapter out of Toris' trip, but it didn't turn out that way. I suppose that's only more to read, eh? Is anyone still with me? ;-;

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The institution was newer than the one in England, but it was just as intimidating to step into. Toris' confidence had grown considerably ever since working at the Kirkland Institution, but that only pertained to what he had learned! You were never really prepared to see someone you… well, your own flesh and blood put into a situation like this. To have them involuntarily committed for their own good, as much as it was for your own. His mother was a shackle around his ankle, keeping a part of him connected to the past he wanted to badly to escape from. It was so much _easier _to run! There were no excuses left this time. _I'm not ready _was no longer good enough. Toris was quite sure at the moment that he would neverbe 'ready' for this.

There were patients outside sitting on the grass or walking around, watched by only a handful of staff it seemed. It would be nice if most the patients back at home could be trusted that much! One of them was even trying to climb a tree, while most of them just seemed to be enjoying the slightly chilly day. Toris had dressed himself nicely; brown slacks, loafers, and a nice cotton button-up shirt. He wore a dark green jacket as well, which was open in the front. He'd been standing still long enough to attract the attention of several patients, as well as a staff member. If not for the propranolol he'd taken, he knew he would be panicking. But it calmed his racing heart and removed the trembling of his hands, though it did nothing for his confidence. It kept all of that anxiety contained, and he hoped that it would last. A young woman approached him curiously, dressed in the plain white scrubs of a nurse. "Can I help you?" Toris smiled, giving a small and nervous laugh.

"I-I'm here to see a patient." He nearly murmured.

"Oh, I see! Who are you here for?"

"Agné Laurinaitis." Toris almost winced when the woman's brows shot up, seeing the surprise on her face all too clearly. She hesitated to speak for a moment, taking quick stock of the slightly taller man with her eyes.

"She's never had a visitor before. May I ask what relation you have to her?"

"I'm her… I'm Toris Laurinaitis. Her son." His tongue tripped over the word, tasting the bitterness that it left behind. The young woman reached up to brush her dark hair behind her ear, nodding her head.

"Follow me then, Pone Laurinaitis. I'll take you to the front desk to wait while I go and find her." She motioned for Toris to follow as she turned around. He stayed right on her heels, smiling and waved back to the patients that greeted him as they went. The facility was a bit more deteriorated on the inside, with the area between the ceiling and wall cracking here and there, and chipped or stained linoleum floors. The heavy door that they passed contained a simple lock, which the woman he followed had a key for. As they approached the front desk, Toris was a little surprised to see so many patients around wandering about around it.

The desk was a semi-circle, and manned by about four nurses with nothing between them and the patients. It seems they kept their medicine elsewhere other than by the nurses. He was ashamed to say that he had never been _inside _the institution when his mother was committed. He'd trusted the psychiatrist who suggested this place. Well, he supposed at least they had managed to keep her alive so far, so it couldn't be as terrible as it might appear. "Wait here." The nurse ordered, and Toris nodded. The nurses behind the desk looked up in question, to which the woman nodded towards Toris. "This is Agné's son." She explained before she headed off. Toris felt as if his collar was burning his neck, reaching up to adjust it as he offered them a small smile. Propranolol or not, he was starting to feel sick. The nurses only gave him empty smiles before they moved off to whisper to one another.

They could say whatever they wanted; they didn't _know. _It was so easy to judge. Even if he _had _abandoned her, it wasn't because she had become a burden. They had no idea what _she _had done, and how long he had taken care of her before that. He'd been _exhausted_, physically and emotionally! It was spend his life keeping her from ending her own life or peruse his future. Not even that logic could stop him from feeling guilty, but it helped. Toris glanced to the clock on the wall, watching it and wishing that the young woman he had spoken to would return soon. He still had no idea what he was going to say, what he would do. How would _she _react? Would she shout at him, accuse him? She might even cry and ask him to forgive her, like she used to do to Janis. Finally he saw the dark-haired nurse round the corner. He smiled for a split second, but it fell when he saw her troubled expression. Once she came close enough, she took in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Pone Laurinaitis, but she doesn't want any visitors right now."

And there it was. Toris' head felt light, and he swore his vision was growing a little blurry. His fingertips felt numb, and his tongue was thick and clumsy when he tried to speak. It was as if he hadn't understood. As if he had been in England so long that he had forgotten how to speak his native tongue.

"But… I came all the way from England!"

"I'm sorry, but she—"

"I came all this way! I…" He frowned, reaching out to place his hand onto the desk to keep his balance. The woman looked concerned, one hand rising as if she might have to catch him. Toris knew his face was pale, he could tell by how cold his cheeks felt. "I'm her _son_!" That foreign word was worthless as ever now.

"I'm _sorry_, but I can't go against her wishes."

"_Her _wishes?" He felt like laughing. "I can't believe this. She _has _to see me." The woman only shook her head gravely. Toris cursed under his breath, feeling trapped in his own body. His heart refused to race, but the pain in his chest was still there. There was the ice cold grip on his stomach and the chill was spreading through him. "Try again. Ask her again."

"I think perhaps you should lie down." Toris swatted at the woman's hand when she reached for him, though he quickly regretted it. His eyes widened a little, and his expression shifted into a grimace.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'm sorry. Please, would you call me a taxi?" He asked as calmly as he could, though try as he might he couldn't fake a smile right now. The woman nodded, glancing over to a fellow nurse who nodded as well, picking up the phone. Toris moved over to an old chair by the wall, taking a seat and lifting his hand up to cover his eyes. His head was swimming, and he knew he ran the risk of fainting if he wasn't careful. A few moments later the woman approached him cautiously.

"I've called a taxi. It should be here shortly. In the meantime, I _hate _to ask you, but…" When she hesitated, Toris looked up. The nurse held a manila folder in her hands, with big black letters written across the front. _Agné Laurinaitienė. _There was a small bulge near the bottom of the folder, and it was thick with papers. "We've tried to get her to sign the papers, but she keeps refusing."

"What papers?" Toris asked with a frown.

"To sell the house." At this Toris' eyebrows shot up.

"I was told that would be taken care of. It was supposed to be sold, and the money put into a fund in case anything went wrong with her insurance and she needed it. Why didn't anyone let me know? What happened to the lawyer that was appointed to her?" To all of these questions the woman only sighed.

"I don't know all the details, I'm afraid. She said she couldn't sell the house she shared with him. She always talks about going back, you see. The utilities are all shut off and the house is fully paid for, so it doesn't cost her anything to hold on to it." The nurse looked rather apologetic by now. The claustrophobic feeling surrounding Toris only grew stronger, and he wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible. He held out his hand.

"Give me the papers. I'll look them over and call someone." The folder was handed to him as he stood slowly, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair. "_Ačiū_." He turned and headed for the doors leading him outside, but he paused for a moment to glance over his shoulder. "Tell her that this isn't over. I'll be back tomorrow." The nurse only nodded, and Toris continued on his way.

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Toris knew it was a bad idea. Possibly the worst he'd ever had. By the time he lost his courage, he'd already slid the key into the lock. Opening the door, the sight that greeted him was so nostalgic that he felt as if he was about to step back into the nightmare that had been his life. It was foolish to push himself this much, and he knew it. But he was desperate enough to prove to that he was over his past that he would go so far as to visit the house he'd grown up in.

All of his fear, pain, the love of his grandmother, and his mother's apathy clashed with the violence and coldness of his father. As he stepped past the threshold and into the small entryway, only the scent of musty and stale air filled his senses. The door closing behind him gave a hollow click. Toris glanced to the wall directly to his right, noting the empty shelves. They used to hold pictures and his father's plaques and medals from his service in the military. They had sat alongside his grandfather's own, the man Janis had always spoken highly of. Toris' grandmother had always said 'Like father like son.'

Toris _hated _those words. She hadn't meant Toris and Janis of course, but Janis and his grandfather. The carpet was worn down and flat under his feet and he could see the thin layer of dust covering the old furniture to his left. Light shone in through the transparent, cream colored curtains on the windows, casting the whole living room in a kind of haze. Shoving the keys into his pocket, he headed for the kitchen. The house was so… _bare. _He'd told the lawyers to get rid of everything, donate it all. There was nothing that he wanted to take away from this house; he wanted only to leave it all behind him.

When he ran his fingertips over the round kitchen table, they came away dusty. Rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger, he focused on that dry and slightly gritty texture. The star-patterned cream and brown linoleum tiles were ripped in places, and some of them were missing the corners. He remembered when Raivis had caught his toe on one, and how worried he had been when it bled. The youngest was terrified to complain, even though it made walking while wearing shoes difficult. There was always something to be afraid of.

Green eyes moved over to the stove, and he thought about the taste of his grandma's cooking. She was so traditional, eager to pass down her recipes to Toris. She had no granddaughter, and Agné wasn't interested in learning anything from her mother in law. Emilija wasn't in Janis' favor, after all. The only reason that she hadn't been sent to a home was that Janis didn't want to pay for it. Emilija had never once complained about her treatment, which was no less than being ignored. Toris had been the one to care for her in that last month, when she couldn't so much as stand. He'd helped her to and from the bathroom, run baths for her, and brought her food and drink.

To the right was the tiny room that had been hers, though she hadn't slept in it until that last month. Instead she'd slept in the room that Toris and his brothers shared. All three brothers had slept in one bed and Emilija in the other. Making his way to that room, he saw that the old beds were still there as well. The mattresses were stained and torn, a spring showing through in one place. His heart leapt up into his throat when he noticed the wall by the door. They hadn't taken down the art! It was the kind of things that parents usually put on the fridge, only that if they had done that it would have been ripped up and thrown away by Janis.

Everything from crayon scribbles to Toris' bad attempt at sketching. They were all signed to 'Močiute', grandma. Toris reached out slowly, fingers touching the waxy texture of the childish figures on the yellowed and curling paper. Carefully, he peeled at the barely clinging tape. One by one he took the pictures down, blowing on them to remove the dust. He carried them with him into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table as he passed it by. His steps felt heavier now, as if he was treading through water. How many times had he taken this dreaded path? The only time Toris had willingly entered the room of his parents had been to coax his mother out to eat or bathe, and _never _when Janis was home. His father was _very _particular about that. No one but Agné was allowed to enter _his _room, not unless they were being punished.

The propranolol was wearing off slowly, but without it Toris knew it would be much worse. He stood in the doorway for a while, swallowing hard and keeping his breathing steady and even. The room was so… _barren _now. The old wooden floorboards were warped and filthy, the one rug tattered. There was a large vanity to the right, one of the three mirrors broken and one cracked. Only one remained untouched. On the wall there hung a crucifix over the flat wooden headboard. His eyes shifted to the foot of the bed, the same style of flat wood marking the end of it. Finally, he took a step inside. The wood creaked and he froze, adrenaline spiking. "_He's not here you idiot._" He chided himself angrily, stepping all the way inside.

There was a wooden bench at the foot of the bed, and Toris approached it with caution. His hand was trembling as he lifted it. Fingertips touched the wood of the footboard at the base of the bed. "_God, help me_." He whispered as he felt the scratches. How many times had his nails bled from digging in and getting splinters? And how often had he dug those splinters out from under Eduard and Raivis' nails? His body ached just to think about it. There was a presence here. It was ominous and heavy, pressing on his chest and making it hard to breathe. It was like an echo of all the anguish this room had seen. The utter hopelessness and fear! Toris' lip curled in disgust, and he clutched that footboard.

"I _hate _you." He breathed. "I hate you for not dying sooner. I hate you for drinking away our money, coming home reeking of cigarettes and booze, and for being unfaithful! I hate you for hurting us all _so much_…"

_You're the only thing I ever did right._

"What did you _mean_?"

_You're the only thing I ever did right._

"It's not _fair_! How could you leave us like that?" He would never forget the sensation of his father's calloused and heavy hand on the top of his head, those long fingers sliding through Toris' hair without pulling it for once. A quick pat and a melancholic smile.

_You're the only thing I ever did right._

And just like that, Janis was gone. He'd never come home that very night. It was so dramatic, so _surreal _that he hesitated to tell anyone. Actually, he _hadn't _told anyone. Not even Antonio had gotten the whole story. The way he tortured himself by lighting cigarettes and watching them burn, taking in their scent. Or how when he was alone, he would sometimes drink himself into a terrible state, and entertain dreams of leaving this world behind. They said Janis had been in a car crash, but Toris had overheard the word from his father's military buddies at the funeral. _Suicide._

"I _never _had your love, your _approval_! I wasn't _man _enough for you. Did you leave me with those words to haunt me?" Toris closed his hand into a fist, hitting the footboard as hard as he could. His hand reverberated with pain, but he welcomed it. "And _God _I wanted it! I thought if I did something right, if I proved myself, that you would stop! You'd look at me and be proud, and stop _hurting _us! But you were a _coward. _You let your guilt eat you from the inside, and you left us with nothing but empty hearts and questions. No one else knows. It really would kill mama to know what you did. That you died on purpose." Toris tilted his head up, feeling the salty hot rivulets of tears slipping down over his cheeks.

"You're the reason that I'm in constant pain, and the reason I can't die. I could _never _do to anyone what you did to me, just leave them like that. _Haha,_" His laugh was high, desperate. "And guess what papa. I think I found someone. _He _is damaged too, _fucked up _like I am. I guess I was a _girl _after all, huh? _Ha._" Toris took in a slow and shuddering breath. "I don't love him _because _he's damaged. I love him because he's never asked a thing from me but for me to care about him. I want to tell mama all about him, but I can't. You took her with you when you died." Toris lowered his head, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face. "I keep hearing and reading that I should forgive you. It's the first step towards healing, they say. But how can I forgive what I can't forget? Have I forgiven you if I still feel sick with anger every time I think of you?"

Toris took in a shuddering breath, actively trying to bring himself down before he went too far. He had something else to do here, and then he was to take care of business elsewhere. After all of it, he had someone to return to. It wasn't ideal, but it was _something. _Toris closed his eyes, reaching up to place his hand over his heart. Oh, that was right. Toris had spent so much time taking care of others that he had never depended on anyone else. It was hard, carrying all of that alone. Practicing what you preach was always much more difficult than it seemed! He wondered if it would be alright to reach out right now. Stepping back from the foot of the bed, he didn't stop until he was up against the wall. Sliding down against it, he sat on the floor and reached into his jacket pocket. Pulling out his cell phone, he bit his lower lip, pulling up the contacts.

Toris knew could call Antonio, but that wasn't what he needed. The psychologist was his friend, but that wasn't what he right now. Not one who couldn't _relate. _He scrolled down to Yao's number, taking in a slow and deep breath. Hitting 'call', he pulled his knees up to his chest and lifted the phone to rest against his ear. After three rings, he felt his heart beginning to race. When it connected, he held his breath.

"What you need, Toris?" Yao's voice inquired. His tone was neutral, as he was so good at, though it seemed a little curious. Toris swallowed, his throat a little tight.

"Is… is Ivan busy?" It was about 7pm in Vilnius right now, which meant it would be about 4pm in London. After lunch and before dinner, making it a good time to call, theoretically. "Is… do you think it would be okay? I mean…"

"Of course it okay!" Yao chided with a _tsk _of his tongue. "It good for him. He need responsibility. He need goal. If you that goal, he need you. What you do anyway?"

"N-nothing. I just need to talk to him." Toris half-lied, and he felt guilty for it. Yao only gave a short sigh, and every second that he hesitated was torture for the Lithuanian. Finally he gave a soft curse in Chinese, muttering a few more as Toris heard his footsteps moving across the floor. He then heard the sound of a door opening, and the phone was rustled against clothing, muffled voices speaking to one another. It was pulled away again, and Yao was scolding Ivan for being grabby, making Toris' lips curve into a small smile. After a bit more walking, he heard Ivan's excited voice.

"Toris needs me?" The Russian nearly whispered. Toris took another deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know what else to do. I got all the way here alright, but… Mama won't see me, Ivan."

"She still does nothing?" Ivan sounded a little irritated, and Toris felt a bit more justified in feeling as bitter about it as he did. He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, even though he knew Ivan couldn't see him.

"I don't know what I expected, to be honest. I put my feelings on hold for so long that I convinced myself I wouldn't care." Hearing that made Ivan chuckle; and Toris silently agreed that it was foolish of him. Pretending that you didn't have feelings about something didn't mean you didn't _actually_ have them! Toris swallowed, his gaze lowering to the dirty floorboards. "But, Ivan, I did something stupid."

"I knew you needed me." Ivan sounded a bit smug, and Toris gave another small smile. It was sad, but it was better than not having one at all.

"I suppose I do. You see, there was a mistake somehow, and the house wasn't sold like it was supposed to be..." Toris was cut off by a scolding tone.

"Oh Toris, you didn't!"

"I'm in their bedroom." The Lithuanian admitted sheepishly.

"Is that where he punished you?" Ivan led off, and Toris breathed in deeply, still trying to keep himself under control.

"Usually."

"How is it?"

"I feel… nothing. No, everything." Toris gave a short sigh of agitation. "I don't know. A little numb I think. Like I'm in shock."

"Mnh." Ivan empathized with that single, quiet sound. Even that small sound made calling him worthwhile.

"You said you have my heart." Toris changed the subject slightly, and Ivan's voice perked back up.

"I've got it right here!" He could almost picture Ivan placing his hand over his heart, and he did the same, sliding his left hand between his knees and chest to rest there.

"Well then, yours must be beating quite strongly in my chest." Toris gave a quiet laugh, feeling his chest ache at the melancholy it echoed with. Ivan gave another sound, though his tone was still excited.

"It's excited that you called! Yours is trembling." Ivan stated the last part quietly, and Toris laughed again, as if a secret had been discovered.

"I can't hide it from you." And it felt good, not hiding his volatile emotions for once. There was a brief moment of silence between them, as Toris listened to Ivan's quiet breath. Finally he spoke up again, nearly whispering. "_I want this house to go away._"

"That won't make it better, Toris. Fire didn't take my nightmares away, it became a part of my new ones. Everything is... inside your mind. Haven't you told me often enough?" Ivan offered, and though he sounded a little unsure about that statement, he was still saying the right words. Toris felt a stab of guilt at that. If those words didn't make _him _better, how could Ivan trust in them?

"This is terrible. I shouldn't be troubling you with this. Not when you're..." He didn't even finish before Ivan cut in.

"Don't make me angry! Don't treat me like a patient. I'm stuck here, but I belong with Toris." Ivan's breath was a little shorter now, and Toris found himself stuck. Should he have called? Could he rely on Ivan's current state of mind—on his emotions? Toris' voice became small.

"Ivan, I'm not so well myself."

"Sssh!" Ivan shushed, as if Toris had spoken something which must remain a secret. "I tried to have you committed to be inside with me, remember?"

"_Ha, _how could I forget?" Toris frowned.

"Toris is stronger than that. I need you outside, so that I can come to you. Toris has to take better care of

himself or he'll hurt my heart." Ivan sounded worried, and the Lithuanian knew he was very close to shaking the Russian's faith. Toris took a deep breath.

"Of course. I'm sorry."

"Toris is very brave. Going to your house like that... But now you have to leave." Ivan's voice was firm, perhaps even the strongest tone that he had ever heard from the Russian. "Leave, before it pulls you in. Do you feel my heart beating? It hurts for you, Toris." As if that numbness had all been a brittle dam holding everything back, Toris felt it break. It was enough to make his chest feel all the pressure that came with it, but above it all he felt _relief._

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'll leave right now. Sorry, Ivan, I never wanted to burden you..."

"Mnh. I'm happy." Ivan assured.

"Why?" Toris wondered even as he pushed himself to stand. Ivan gave a small hum, the kind he did when he was content.

"Toris... needed me. I was the strong one." The Russian explained. Toris smiled as he headed out of the room, back into the living room.

"You've always been strong, Ivan." Toris reminded. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you. Probably something stupid."

"If only I had met you earlier, I might have done less stupid things too." Ivan admitted, and Toris gave a quiet laugh. Tears were in his eyes, but laughing felt _so good _right now. He almost couldn't get it to stop, his steps pausing to pick up the drawings from the coffee table.

"Maybe. Or maybe we met each other just in time. I'll help you get out, and you'll help me move on."

"_Da_!" Ivan assured with enthusiasm. Toris reached up to wipe at his eyes with the hand holding the pictures, though it only succeeded in getting dust in them.

"Ah, I have to go." At being told this, Ivan gave a quiet, distraught sound. "I'll call again. When I need you. I promise."

"_Ya tebya lyublyu_!" Ivan said quickly, as if Toris was going to hang up right away. "And Toris! It will be okay."

"_Ya tebya lyublyu, _Ivan. And if there's one thing I do know, it's that you're right. I'll talk to you soon. " Waiting for Ivan to say his goodbye, he ended the call. Taking a deep breath, he began to dial the number of the lawyer that had been listed on one of the papers.

.

* * *

.

Toris spent most of the evening on the phone with various lawyers, a real estate agent, and eventually the bank. It had been years since the original agreement, and the lawyer had left the country before he had finalized the paperwork due to Agné's outright refusal to sign them. That was taken care of now, at long last. Handing over the keys had been like lifting a weight he hadn't been aware that he was carrying. As if it had been waiting there for him to discover, giving him the chance to face what he couldn't before. Picking the scab of an old wound was alright if you had a salve, he supposed. His call to Ivan had been the best medicine he could think of.

Toris hadn't had someone to depend on ever since his grandmother's passing. There _was _Feliks, he supposed, and if Yao hadn't let him talk to Ivan he would have called him, but it wasn't the same. Feliks witnessed the aftershocks. He'd see Toris and his brothers with new wounds and tired faces, but he didn't understand the… the terror, the fear, and the depth of pain. Feliks' mother might be a bit irresponsible, but she was there for him. Antonio would have listened, counseled him, and Yao would have done the same had he asked. Ivan did what they couldn't, he _understood. _He could relate more closely than any of them.

After he'd gotten everything straightened out, Toris had taken the opportunity to find an old-fashioned style café and eat his fill. Contrary to having no appetite because of stress, Toris found himself quite famished by the day's occurrences. Afterwards he lay in bed at the hotel and watched TV for about a few hours before he'd fallen asleep around midnight. It was so _nice, _having nothing to do for once. No need to rush, to set an alarm even! It was to be roughly nine hours later that he was jolted awake by the sound of the phone ringing. It wasn't his cell phone, but the hotel one. Sitting up slowly, he reached over and lifted it from the cradle to his ear. "_Hello_?" He practically yawned.

"Pone Laurinaitis?" A female voice questioned.

"_Taip._" The Lithuanian answered as he leaned back against the headboard.

"This is Elgé, we met yesterday when you came to see your mother?" The woman explained, and Toris found his sleepiness quickly faded with a small rush of adrenaline.

"I remember. Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no! Not at all! I'm sorry, I was only calling to tell you that she is asking for you." The woman's voice was apologetic, but Toris couldn't quite relax. He wasn't sure which news would have been more upsetting. That something had happened or that she wanted to see him. He swallowed, lips parting to answer but his voice drying up. "Pone Laurinaitis?"

"I'm here." Toris answered. "I'll… I'll stop by later." He would need a bit of time to prepare himself again. Thanking the woman, he hung up as soon as he could. Pulling his knees up to his chest, Toris ran his fingers through his hair. If she had seen him yesterday, he wouldn't have gone to the house! And now that he had made that fateful visit, the last thing that he wanted to do was see the woman who had idly stood by, and even lobbied against Toris and his brothers. His anger felt so fresh, as if no time had passed. He'd been sure she wouldn't see him! He almost wished she hadn't changed her mind. If she hadn't it would be easier to abate that guilt he had been holding on to for these past years.

.

* * *

.

It would be past noon by the time that Toris arrived at the institution. His feet as were heavy as lead on the small trek up that grassy lawn. The sky was gray, and it was sprinkling lightly, so there were no patients outside at the time. Stepping through the front doors, he found himself glancing around quickly. There were patients wandering about in the halls, and he half-feared finding his mother without any warning. When he was sure that she was nowhere in sight, he approached the front desk. The nurse he had spoken to the day before, Elgé, stood up with a smile. "She's been waiting in her room for you." She explained as she came around to the front of the desk. "Follow me." He motioned with her hand and Toris nodded, swallowing as soon as she turned her back.

Not only were the patients roaming the halls, but a few of them were sitting in them. The cloud of melancholy practically hung around them like a visible fog, their eyes holding no light as they stared anywhere but towards another human being. It was a look all too familiar to Toris. They stopped at a door, and Elgé knocked before opening it. "Audra, could you give Agné a moment with her son?" She asked kindly. A middle-aged woman came to the door, her blond hair pulled up into a bun. She seemed nervous, glancing to Toris and back to the nurse before she nodded. Elgé stood aside as she shuffled past them.

Dragging up every last ounce of courage, Toris stepped into the room. He stood there just past the threshold for a moment, hearing the door close behind him with a quiet click. There were four beds in the room, each of them low to the ground and with plain metal frames. The white paint was chipping off of them, though at least the sheets looked clean. Curtains hung between the beds to give what little privacy they could, and as such Toris couldn't locate his mother right away. Walking down that row of beds made him feel as if he was expecting something to jump out at him. He reached the end at last, where two large windows resided. They had bars across the outsides of them, but the dreary light passed through them easily.

The woman sitting with her back towards Toris had a rigid posture, her narrow silhouette not even casting a shadow due to the cloudy sky. That dull brown hair hung down in cascade, slightly tangled as if she had slept without brushing it. Taking a deep, slow breath, Toris' voice was quiet when he spoke out. "Mama…?" At that single word the woman stood up and turned, and Toris noticed those blue eyes first. Combined with her expression, it was such a foreign emotion for her to portray that he wasn't prepared as she strode over to him. The sting of her palm meeting his cheek took him by completely surprise, and he raised one hand to touch it as he returned his gaze to her. "Mama!" He exclaimed in protest, the way one might scold a child for hitting.

"How could you?" Agné accused, her pretty features scrunched up with her own agitated expression. "You sold the house!"

"Of course I did!" Toris shot back, lowering his hand and standing up straight again. He was only a little taller than she was, but it mattered little. There was no way he could intimidate his mother.

"That was my last memory! I was going to live there when I got out of here!" Agné seethed, raising her hands again. Toris caught her by her wrists easily, holding them without hurting her but keeping her from doing either of them any harm. He thanked the classes he'd taken while working at the Kirkland institution for that! Restraining patients without injury was very important!

"Your _memory_?" Toris shot back, anger causing his face to flush with heat. "What memories to you mean, mama? Was it when he came home drunk and stinking of perfume and yesterday's clothes? Or maybe it was when he called you _worthless _and a whore?"

"You stop it, you ungrateful child!" Agné snapped, and Toris felt a bitter laugh building up, but he held it back.

"Ungrateful? Oh, I suppose I am. I should be _grateful _for the times he _beat me until I couldn't stand. _Was I being disrespectful when I forced my way between him and Raivis after he pulled my little brother's shoulder out of its socket? I suppose I _earned _these scars all over my back and thighs?" It was venomous and he knew it, but she had started this. He could see those blue eyes bubbling up with tears, but still she glared. Wetness hit his face suddenly, though it took him a split second to realize that she had actually spit on him. "I can't help it, I was a _bad child._" He let go of one of her wrists to wipe his face off. Agné grabbed a hold of his t-shirt, nails pinching skin as she grasped it tightly.

"Ne, ne!"

"No _what, _mama? I _hated _papa. Hated him with all my heart! Raivis _still _has nightmares, and Eduard can't stand to be around people, so he loses himself in the computer."

"He loved you! We needed him!"

"That wasn't _love, _mama. Haven't they counseled you here? It's time to stop living a lie! We needed _you, _mama. _You _were the one we wanted. To hold us, comfort us, and _save us._" Toris' voice broke, but his eyes were dry. He was still emotionally numb from yesterday. "When our nightmare was _finally _over, we needed you the most. But you tried to leave us all behind and follow that bastard."

"Stop speaking of your papa that way, Toris!" Agné's eyes spilled over with tears, and she let go of Toris' shirt to cover his mouth. He pulled back and brushed it away.

"He wasn't my papa! He was a sick man who never brought anything but fear and pain. _Hss._" She had slapped his cheek again. Though it wasn't as hard, it still stung! "Do you mean to pick up where he left off?" Toris asked with a raise of his eyebrow. Only then did Agné become still, barely breathing. She pulled her other wrist free and clasped both hands against her chest. Her shoulders shook, and she gave a small sob.

"_Ne_!" She gasped. "Oh, _Toris…_ My sweet little boy…" Both those hands rose, but Toris took a step back before they touched his face.

"No, you don't get to call me that." He stated firmly. "The only reason you wanted to see me today was because I sold that hell hole you called a home." Agné bit her lip, her hands still up as if she might try and reach for him again. Her refusal to dispute his claim only made it hurt all the more. "You wanted to leave us so badly… I only gave you what you wanted! I took my brothers and I left you far behind, though not as far as you tried to leave _us._"

"Oh, my precious son, no…" Agné did take a step forward then, hands out, but Toris avoided them again.

"I came here thinking that I sought your forgiveness. As it would turn out, I don't want it after all. You haven't changed. Your love died with papa." Toris was slowly stepping backwards, while Agné seemed frozen in place. "Now, if you'll excuse me _mama, _I have to get ready for my flight tomorrow. I have an errand to take care of in Russia, to help out the man I love." His mother's blue eyes widened, and her hands moved down to grip at the skirts of her white gown. Her crying had stopped now, as if she had never started, through her face was wet with tears.

"What's his name?" She asked unexpectedly. Toris stopped walking briefly, giving a small smile.

"His name is Ivan Braginsky. He's a big strong Russian. I bet Močiute would have loved him." At the mention of his grandmother, his mother's face became slightly irritated again.

"You always loved her more than me." She seemed to defend herself. Toris only shook his head.

"No, mama. _She _always loved me more than _you _did." He corrected. Agné only turned her head away. Toris couldn't stand leaving things unresolved like this, but he didn't have much of a choice. If she hadn't changed he knew just what he was up against, and he had 17 years of experience in trying to gain her love and failing. As he turned his back to her and continued towards the door, she didn't speak a word. As he opened it, he chanced a glance backwards. She stood there alone, at the end of the row of beds, with her face in her hands and the windows behind her. Agné still held the memory of a terrible tyrant as a dear husband, and there was no room for her sons in there—biological as Toris was, or the adopted Eduard and Raivis. What else could he say? Turning away, he left the room.


End file.
